


A Work In Progress

by bellas2silly



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, I'm Sorry, Love Triangles, Maybe - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-01-01 06:09:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 97,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18330191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellas2silly/pseuds/bellas2silly
Summary: So, this is something I've been working on for a little bit. It's essentially a "What If" in regards to Queen having another member, a female member. Either way, I'm gonna see where this leads to.





	1. Strange Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this follows through the early days of Smile. I'm not going to say that I'm 100% accurate, but I do have a biography regarding Queen and I'm basing my years off of that so it's just a bit more accurate. I'm also going to base some of this off of the movie as well.

_ November of 1968, Ealing Art College… _ ****  
** **

“You look so out of place, darling.”

I whirl around in surprise, seeing a man stare at me in nothing but pure amusement. The first thing that drew my attention were those charcoal eyes, warm and full of life. The next thing I noticed were those prominent front teeth as he gave me a dazzling yet mischievous grin. There was something intriguing and even…. _exotic_ about him, but it only added more to his charm. I snap out of my daze, trying to cover up for nearly gawking at him for so long with the first thing that pops into my mind.

“I don’t look that out of place do I?” I joked.

Then, as he giggles, I find myself nearly melt on the spot at how  _ adorable and cute  _ this man is. It gives me the strongest desire to make him smile for the rest of his life. Again, he notices that I’m staring again at him for far too long. He covers up his charming laugh and smile with his hand, as his giggles subside. 

_ Shit I made him self conscious didn’t I? I am sorry mysterious stranger. _

“I- -I am  _ so  _ sorry for staring. I just...uh...you are  **_very_ ** beautiful.” I stammered.

_ Oh fucking kill me now. I’m such an idiot. _

He looks at me in complete surprise, eyebrows raised. For a moment, I feel like I want to die for saying anything at all, and when he burst out into laughter, I all but freeze on the spot. It honestly takes everything within me not to hang my head lowly in shame as I run away from him. Then, he touches my arm and smiles at me warmly as I stare at him with wide eyes.

“I think I’ve made a complete fucking ass of myself enough for today. I am so sorry for even saying anything. I’ll just leave now and never so far as  _ look  _ at you again- -”

“Please stop!” He giggled. “Wow, I haven’t laughed so hard in fucking  _ years  _ darling! I  **like** you, no bullshit tolerated! You just say what is on your mind!”

Relief washes over me, and I can’t help be drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“There’s nothing wrong with calling a man beautiful.” He assures me. “Flattery gets you everywhere, I always say.”

In seconds, his hand falls from my arm before moving to shake my hand. I shake his hand, and I can sense his surprise at my firm grip. He also surprises me in return when he pulls my hand up towards him, and places a gentle kiss on top of my knuckles. I feel my heart flutter on the spot. 

“Freddie Bulsara, darling.” He introduced himself.

“That’s a little interesting for a name...you’re not from around here are you?” I find myself asking.

“Very clever indeed, darling.” Freddie winked. “You’re correct. I’m not initially from England. And judging by that lovely American accent, I can safely assume that you’re not from around here either.”

“Y- -you would be correct.” I nodded. 

Falling silent again, he stares at me once more in amusement. I feel my blush intensify as I force myself to speak.

“The name’s Jacqueline. Walker, uh...Jacqueline Walker.” I stammered.

“Oh, I like you quite a lot.” He giggled quietly. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

“Y- -yeah?” I stutter.

“Don’t sound so excited dear. Now I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

As if on cue, my stomach growls as I feel signs of hunger wave through me.

“And judging my that, I’d say you are famished. Now, let me take you for dinner. I’ve never met an American before.”

* * *

 

Over the course of the next several months, Freddie and I become incredibly close. I’m intrigued with Freddie Bulsara as I learn more about him. He’s actually a very timid person as he shares more about himself with me, and I can’t find myself understand why when he’s so fascinating as an individual. Freddie mentioned attending an English based boarding school in India, that he lived on an East African island called Zanzibar before a revolution took place that forced his family into moving here. 

Freddie loved art and music almost as much as I did. Told me about fond memories with him learning the piano. I’d told him about my love for the guitar and drums growing up. In return, I told him more about my past, something I always dreaded bringing up. However, with Fred, something within me had ignited. I felt like I could tell him almost anything at all.

My life wasn’t the worst, but it was far from amazing. It honestly started after my mother was killed in a car accident when I was thirteen. At first, my father was just extremely depressed and practically refused to leave his bed for days at a time which had my siblings and I worried. Then, after a couple of months, when he got fired from his job, the verbal abuse started. There was more yelling, more shouting, but it was easy to stomach and shoulder.

It was when my older brother accidentally stumbled upon a hidden stash of drugs, that my father physically struck him down with his hand. From that point on, the atmosphere in our house grew more dark and at times became unbearable. As soon as my brother had turned eighteen, he immediately moved out, but not before vowing to my sister and I that he would return for us with the intent of having custody over us. For years, my sister and I waited, yearning for our older brother to come for us, but it never happened.

So as soon as my twin sister and I had turned eighteen after five years of living in that house ~~that I couldn’t even call home anymore,~~ we moved out together. We struggled to make ends meet, but we’d managed with odd jobs. I joined a band for a brief time as a guitarist playing in seedy bars, and while it did pay, I was let go for being underage. So, after some more questionable jobs, and with my sisters blessing, I made the choice to leave and never look back.

Which was how I ended up here in another country, wanting to make new memories and leave everything about my old life behind. In those times that I would share my personal life, Freddie wasn’t judgmental, and was more than empathetic. As cliché and cheesy as it was, it felt like a weight was lifted from my very being. In the short amount of time of having met him, Freddie Bulsara had wormed his way into my heart. Despite my hiccups when we’d first met, to which he still teased me relentlessly of, I was elated that Fred became a good friend of mine, my  _ best friend _ .

Freddie and I spent more time together, just hanging out between our classes until the semester ended. Having more free time between jobs, Freddie introduced me to his family. His mother was adorable with a warm personality that had me melting on the spot. With his sister Kashmira, she was a tad more closed off and interested in her schoolwork.

After helping her with some of her work, she warmed up to me. It was honestly Freddie’s _father_ that intimidated me. His eyes shifted towards me suspiciously, giving me sometimes a cool and calculated look as he questioned me about my life and who I was as a person. After visiting a couple of times, his father had also loosened up as he became more familiar with me.

* * *

_ August of 1969  _

With graduation finally over, Freddie and I were able to actually spend time outside of the Ealing campus. Despite having jobs, we’d always made time for each other somehow. To me, however, Freddie was worth it. I liked to think that we were helping each other grow as individuals.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I panted lightly.

I move to open the window at my apartment, hoping for some type of a breeze in this hot atmosphere. I was instead met with a brief warm and unfulfilling gust of wind that only drove me to insanity. I pull my auburn hair up into a high ponytail before moving back to the couch. I grab at the joint hanging loosely from my lips and take a hit before moving to grab my guitar again.

I strum lightly, humming a small tune as I jot down notes into my notebook before going back to strumming my guitar. For minutes, it’s the same process on repeat: take a hit of my joint, write down some notes, and find a good melody on my guitar. I barely notice anything in my surroundings, more focused on my music. I nearly jump in surprise when I see a hand grab my notebook, and glance up at Fred angrily as I try to calm the rapid beating in my chest.

“Fucking hell, Fred.” I grumbled.

“I just came back home from work dear, I haven’t exactly been hiding my presence from you. I thought you heard me.” Freddie chuckled. 

Fred reads through my notebook without much care, but raises an eyebrow as his smile falters.

“Well shit. These are actually quite good. Oh Jackie, you little bitch. You’ve been holding out on me.” Freddie mutters. “ _ It’s in the lap of the Gods... _ interesting…”

“Can I have that back?” I roll my eyes. “You can go back to your room and worship your damn Jimi Hendrix posters.”

“No, no...I’m still reading dear.” Fred smirked. “Now pass that shit over.”

My lips quirk up as I comply, taking another hit before passing the joint over to Freddie. I lean back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling in a daze as I giggle lightly. I feel as if I’m laying on a cloud when my eyes flutter shut. The peace is interrupted when I hear Fred reciting the lyrics from my notebook.

“Oh I rather like this one.  _ It’s so easy, but I can’t do it. So risky, but I’ve gotta chance it. So funny...there’s nothing to laugh about.... _ ” Freddie sings softly.

My eyes fly open as I turn to glance at Freddie in pure awe. To be honest, I didn’t there was anything that Freddie Bulsara  _ couldn’t  _ do. Damn was he a man of many talents. I stare at him with wide eyes and hold in my breath as he grabs my pencil and writes something else down.

“ _ But my money, that’s all you wanna talk about. I can see...what...you...want  _ _ me _ _ to be. _ ”

I move to sit up, letting out a shaking breath when I glance down and see Fred rewriting and adding new things to my lyrics. Fred gives me a warm smile, showing me those dazzling teeth of his as he shows me what he’s doing. I nod and follow along, as he takes the title of my song and throws it right on into the lyrics. 

“ _ But I’m no fool! It’s in the lap of the Gods!” _

“Holy fucking shit. That’s amazing.” I grinned at him. 

Fred shrugs nonchalantly, although his smirk never leaves as he hands me back my notebook. He takes another hit of my joint, exhaling through his mouth after a minute of holding it in. 

“I only added two more lines to it, dear. Although...I think you’ve got a talent my sweet little Brooklyn Jaybird.” Freddie told me.

_ I’d say the same for you, Fred. _

“I told you to stop calling me that.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m sorry but I can’t. It’s my little pet name for you.” Freddie chuckled. “You know you like it.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Bulsara.” I grumbled.

I fight the blush forming on my cheeks, my smile fading instantly. I pluck my joint from his hand and take another hit, maintaining eye contact with him as I hold the smoke in before exhaling through my nose. Freddie merely raises an eyebrow at me.

“You never seemed to mind it before.” Freddie commented. 

“Yeah well, it’s ridiculous and- -” I stammered.

Noticing how flustered I’m becoming, a playful smile forms on his face as Freddie leans in towards me and plays with my ponytail in one hand.

“Oh, darling. You are just so  _ precious _ .” Freddie sighed happily. “My Brooklyn Jaybird…”

My eyes widen when I see how close Freddie gets as his face inches near mine, and I can practically feel my heart hammering in my chest. 

“F- -Fred?” I stuttered.

I’m frozen as his lips graze mine gently. Hearing my breath hitch slightly, he takes this as a cue to press another firm kiss to my lips. For minutes, we slowly explore each others mouths, tongues dancing tentatively together. It isn’t until we pull apart for air that I realize I’m straddling Freddie.

I look down at him, taking in his slightly disheveled appearance from his unbuttoned pants _~~(when the fuck did that even happen?)~~ _to his unruly dark hair, even more out of place than it normally is. I can’t help but giggle at Fred as I pull myself off of him. Fred starts giggling as well, until the both of us are laughing hysterically for a full minute. When the laughter subsides, I give Fred a gentle pat on the knee.

_ Well that was interesting...I didn’t...I felt nothing...maybe I was finally over my crush on him? _

“Fred...you’re my frie- -no. You’re my  _ best  _ friend. I love you. But I  **don’t** think we should kiss again.” I spoke up. “Man, am I high right now. I’m sorry for being all over the place.”

Fred smiles warmly at me, placing his hand on top of mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, so we’re on the same page then.” Fred nods. “It’s what rock stars do, we experiment, have a little fun here and there- -”

“Rock stars?” I snorted.

“What? I don’t know about you, but that’s what I aspire to be. If you decide to join me, I wouldn’t be opposed.” Freddie teased.

“Alright Mr. Rockstar. Put on the TV.” I playfully punch his arm.

Fred turns on the television and sits back on the couch with me. I move my guitar down to the floor and curl up next to Freddie. He chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulders. It falls into a comfortable silence between us after that.

* * *

_ December of 1969. _

When I get the mail today, I see a letter with the return address from  _ America _ . My heart pounds wildly as I hold it, and realize from the return address  that it’s from my older brother. I resist the urge to rip it into shreds, and wonder how the hell he got my address to begin with. I cave in on my urge to drink.

When Freddie gets back home, he sees me dancing to his Jimi Hendrix records with a half empty bottle of wine. He’s quick at picking up on signals, and immediately turns off the record before rushing me back to my room to change my clothes. I can barely get a word in before we’re out the door and walking down the street together. 

“Freddie! The fuck man? Where are we going?” I groaned.

“You are not having a self-wallowing pity party on your fucking birthday, dear! I simply won’t allow it!” Freddie replied. “Tim wanted to hang out tonight anyway, so this is knocking down two birds with one stone! We get to party on your birthday until we goddamn blackout like I planned to and I get to see my buddy Tim!”

I roll my eyes but lean into Freddie as I huddle into him for warmth. Freddie chuckles softly but doesn’t object as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. Together we walk down the streets of Kensington and near Imperial. Finally, Freddie steers me into a pub, going straight for the bar and ordering two glasses of tequila. Looking over towards a small stage set up, Freddie sees his friend Tim Staffell.

“Oh damn it! We must have just missed their performance for the night! Their band is really good, I was hoping you would be able to hear their music!” Fred pouted.

“How’s Tim been doing anyway? I’ve been meaning to talk to him. He said he had a guitar I’d be interested in.” I asked.

“Well you can ask him yourself, darling.”

Freddie waves at Tim, catching his attention almost immediately. Tim smiles when he spots us and starts coming over towards us. Then, following behind him, a tall lanky man with a headful of dark curls. Next to Tim was another guy a bit shorter in height, with blonde hair and blue eyes that nearly resembled an angel. I down my drink immediately to relax my nerves and order a whiskey neat as Freddie converses with Tim and his friends.

“Jacqueline, dear, get your lovely ass over here.”

I nearly spill my drink as Freddie claps a hand on my shoulder, pulling me firmly over with him to join the conversation. Freddie wraps an arm around my waist before grabbing my drink and taking a sip. Freddie almost spits out whatever he drank, but manages to swallow.

“The fuck are you even drinking?” Freddie coughs. “Is that poison?”

I grab my drink back from Freddie.

“It’s a whiskey neat.” I give him a pointed look. “Don’t take things without asking next time.”

“I won’t be making that mistake again.” Freddie mutters sarcastically.

“Hey, Jacqueline. It’s good to see you again, luv.” 

I put on a kind smile as I turn my attention to Tim.

“Hey, Tim. How’s it goin’? Did we miss your performance?”

“Yeah. Just finished actually.” Tim grinned.

One of Tim’s bandmates, the familiar looking tall and lanky gentleman, smiles at me politely as he makes himself known. His curls bounce as he moves forward and holds out his hand. I’m almost puzzled until I realize he wants to shake my hand. I practically jump in embarrassment as I eagerly shake it.

“I think we’ve met one other time, but, I’m Brian. Brian May.”

There’s something gentle and kind about him, but as I grasp his hand, I find myself take a liking to Brian May. Brian seemed extremely well mannered, much more timid, but...a down to earth person. Aside from his physical appearance, his calloused hands are something I take notice of, and am able to guess what instrument he plays.

“Jacqueline Walker. You can call me Jack or Jackie if you’d like.” I introduced myself. “You’re a guitarist huh?”

“How did you know? Did Tim tell you?” Brian smiled.

“It’s your hands.” I blurt out.

I find myself blushing and turning away from Brian as I down my drink in one gulp, receiving a desperate look from Freddie. Tim and his other bandmate, look at me in surprise when they see my glass empty when I turn back towards them. If it weren’t for Freddie keeping his arm around me, I’d have probably fled the scene by now. Freddie continues on as if nothing happened, but pinches my side as a warning of some kind.

“My dear Jackie is also a musician, has a guitar and everything…” Freddie brought up.

At this, Brian’s face lights up and he gives me an impressed look.

“Really? That’s great. How long have you played for?”

Freddie nudges me with his arm and I clear my throat almost awkwardly before answering.

“I’ve played since I was a kid...took a liking to it. I used to play drums before that, but I just stopped when my dad destroyed my drumset- -”

_ Okay, why the fuck did I just open  _ **_that_ ** _ can of worms? God I’m so fucking stupid. _

Brian looks at me in surprise as well as sympathy. I have so many regrets swimming around in my mind right now.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

I pause and take a deep breath, longing another drink more than anything at this moment.

“No, it’s fine. If anything,  **_I_ ** need to apologize for being so fucking awkward. I don’t really do well around new people. Freddie can attest to that.” I blushed. “But you’re cool. I like you.”

I can hear the snickering of Tim’s other bandmate, and turn to glare at him.

“Well fuck you too. Don’t laugh at my awkwardness and misery.” I groan.

He stops snickering and looks at me in pure amusement, it almost reminded me of the moment I met Freddie almost a year ago.

“You need to stop being so hostile towards everyone, dear.” Freddie teased. “If you guys couldn’t tell, she’s American.”

“Oh  _ ha ha! _ Pull the American card!  _ Look out for that crazy bitch! _ ” I mock shouted.

Both Brian and Tim laugh at Freddie and I. My face heats up in embarrassment before I let out a deep sigh and run a hand through my hair.

_ This is almost as bad as the day I met Freddie. I probably resemble a goddamn tomato. _

“I’m just uh...gonna go get shitfaced if you don’t mind. Today’s just been so  _ special _ .” I mutter sarcastically.

“Oh yeah? What’s the special occasion then?” The blonde asked.

I glance at him in surprise, not expecting such a soft spoken and husky tone to come out of this man. I quickly snap out of it before shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s my birthday.  _ Whoopie _ .” I joked.

My heart nearly skips a beat when he winks at me, but I try to maintain a passive expression.

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “Happy Birthday then, sweetheart.”

Brian notices his behavior and playfully punches his bandmates shoulder.

“If you couldn’t tell, Roger’s a bit of a flirt.”

“I can introduce myself thank you, Bri.”  _ Roger  _ rolled his eyes.

Roger grabs my hand, placing a kiss on top as he smiles at me.

“Roger Taylor. I could be your birthday gift if you’d like.” He offered.

I fight the blush on my cheeks as all three boys look between the two of us. Roger wears a smug expression as he waits for my response. Brian however, looks almost  _ embarrassed  _ of his friend, while Tim just seems to wait in anticipation. I don't even need to glance over at Freddie to know that he's completely amused. Once again, I find myself parched for another drink, but I try to resist the urge to run away and hide.

_ Seriously! Say something! Anything! Literally anything at all! _

I feign confidence almost similar to Freddie, as I fold my arms and cock my hip to the side. I lean into Freddie and feel grounded, more calm as I finally gather the courage to speak up. I say the first thing that comes to my mind. All while giving Roger an almost sickeningly sweet smile.

"Y'know. That sounds like such an "amazing" birthday gift don't get me wrong, also take note of the sarcasm in my tone, but... I think I'll  _ pass _ . I'd rather not get herpes or anything..." I respond.

In mere seconds, Tim is in hysterics, and I see Freddie covering his mouth as he attempts to hide his laughter as well. Brian looks almost impressed and can't fight back his smile either. Roger, however, looks completely flabbergasted and at a loss of words. It was obvious that he wasn't used to rejection, and honestly with how this man looked, I could see why. Roger was a gorgeous man, and he fucking  _ knew  _ it too.

I turn towards Freddie and add more salt to the wound for Roger as I press a kiss to his lips. Freddie knows that I'm itching for another drink, and slowly drops his hand from my waist. Freddie plays along and kisses me again, smirking when he glances over at Roger practically fuming with anger and annoyance. Freddie smacks my ass as I start walking over to the bar.

"Want me to get you something, dear?" I ask nicely.

"I'll have a martini when you get the chance, darling." Freddie winked.

"Are you two...." Tim looks confused.

Freddie sends another wink to his friend, before leaning over towards him.

"Oh heavens no. I think she just wanted to piss off your drummer." Fred whispered into his ear.

"Well it worked." Brian added dryly. "He just stormed off."

Freddie lets out another giggle before clapping his hands together.

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with this.” Fred grinned.

“What do you mean?” Brian raised an eyebrow.

“My darling Brooklyn Jaybird only acts so guarded and standoffish when she’s attracted to someone or when she’s nervous. She also jokes around way too much. I really need to break those little habits of hers.” Freddie mused.

“ _ Brooklyn Jaybird? _ ” Tim chuckled. 

“It’s just my little nickname for her. She’s from Brooklyn, New York. Oh, I hope I get to visit America one day.” Freddie said.

* * *

Hours later, after spending some more time at the bar, I stumble outside and sigh in relief from the fresh air. Despite the fact that it’s way too fucking cold, I relish in it. The bar had begun to grow more crowded, and rather unbearable with the temperature growing warmer.  With no signs of Freddie, I find myself growing lonelier than I cared to admit. I assumed that Freddie was with Tim and Brian, and God forbid that stupid blonde fucker. I contemplate my next move as I lean against a wall near the pub entrance. I almost consider leaving, but I knew Freddie would have my head if I left without so much as a goodbye.

“Have a light?”

At the husky voice, I tense up and resist the urge to scream as I turn to glance over at Roger Taylor. He wears a fur coat,  and has sunglasses on despite the fact that it’s nearly midnight. Finally, upon recognizing me, he cracks a grin much similar to earlier that I have the urge to slap off. He’s quick to take a spot next to me and leans casually against the brick wall.

“What? I’m not good enough to talk to?” Roger asked.

I grab my lighter from my pocket before igniting the small flame, cutting him off. Roger glances at me stunned, but leans down with his cigarette hanging low from his lips. Then, he pulls away and inhales deeply before smoke exits through his mouth. Surprisingly, we don’t really say anything to each other as the minutes tick by.

“I’m sorry for how I acted back in there.” I muttered softly.

Roger once again looks astonished at my apology, clearly not expecting me to say a word to him, let alone something remotely nice, but he nods in understanding. He tosses the remainder of the cig to the ground before crushing it under his shoe. Through his sunglasses, he looks at me with such an intensity. I can find myself grow unnerved by it, but try not to fidget in my spot.

“It’s alright. I certainly didn’t help matters.” Roger chuckled. “I didn’t mean to offend you, by the way. If I see something I like, I just go for it.”

I can’t help but smile at his words as I’m slightly put at ease. I hold out my hand and watch as Roger hesitantly shakes it.

“I’m Jacqueline Walker. I like long walks on the beach and smoke an excessive amount of weed.” I joked.

Roger laughs, and my heart nearly skips a beat when I see how gorgeous his smile is as well. 

_ Man...just...fuck everything. Why do I do this to myself? _

“Roger Taylor. I’m a drummer that’s contemplating whether to drop out of uni. I also, have a habit of smoking excessively. Whether it’s weed or tobacco.” Roger playfully replied.

I let out a chuckle at this, before shuddering from the cold. Roger rolls his eyes as he shrugs off his fur coat. I tense up as he drapes it over my shoulders.

“The fuck did you come out here with no coat on for? Are you daft or something?” Roger scoffs lightly.

“No, I’m Jacqueline.” I slurred.

Roger gives me a blank stare as he fights off the smile forming on his face again.

“Where’s your coat, luv?” 

“I think Freddie has it actually. I don’t know  _ where  _ the fuck he is though.”

“So this Freddie...are you two…?”

“No. I jus’ did that to piss ya off. He’s my best friend actually.” I smirked. “Some best friend though, ditchin’ me at some pub on my birthday.”

For some reason, Roger looks almost relieved as I say this, but I don’t comment on it. Roger takes off his sunglasses, gently rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Impulsively, I grab his sunglasses from his hands, and inspect them before placing them on my face. I attempt to mimic Roger even as I sway on my feet drunkenly.

“Rogah Taylah. Pleasure t’ meet you, luv. There’s this lovely alleyway where we can shag if you’d like.” I imitate him.

Roger lets out a husky chuckle before moving forward and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. His breath fans my face gently, and my eyes flutter shut from the warmth. I let out a giggle as Roger gasps dramatically. Somehow, he was able to make his voice go higher as if trying to mimic a woman, and I fight the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Why, I  _ never! _ That’s so offensive.” Roger huffed.

I drop the act immediately and can’t help but snort at how ridiculous this all is. It wasn’t even three hours ago that I was repulsed by this womanizer. I usually hated men like Roger Taylor that slept with women and bragged about their conquests. Yet here I was, joking around with him and actually  _ enjoying  _ my time with him. 

Maybe Roger wasn’t as bad as he appeared. Sure, he was still a smug asshole, but...he wasn’t entirely bad. He reminded me a little bit like Tim when I first met him, a bit rough around the edges, but overall a good guy. I didn’t like some of the people Freddie introduced me to, but...I warmed up to them fairly quickly. Perhaps this was the same case.

“I’m sorry I judged you s’ harshly before. I jus’...you acted like I was some piece of meat an’ I got defensive.” I whined. “But yer actually not that bad.”

Roger pauses and I get a good long look at his baby blue eyes. His smile falters as he wears a more solemn expression that is absolutely breathtaking. Much like Freddie, Roger was completely magnetic. The longer I make eye contact with him, the more I was being drawn to him.

_ Are there such things as male sirens? Like what the fuck is wrong with me? _

“It’s alright, luv.” Roger smiled. “I...I acted like an ass too, so it’s okay.”

Seconds pass as we fall silent again, and I hug myself as I burrow deeper into the fur coat for warmth. It smells like cigarettes and whiskey along with cinnamon of all things. Interestingly enough, I find myself liking the scent. I sway on my feet again, my vision blurring as I focus on keeping myself upright. I lean against the brick wall again and close my eyes.

“I really like this coat...think I might keep it.” I mumbled.

“As good as it looks on you- -”

“If you say it’ll look better on yer floor or some bullshit like that, I’m leavin’ and I don’ care if I’m drunk, but I  _ will  _ leave.” I cut him off.

Roger lightly scoffs and gives me a look of mock seriousness. 

“I would  **_never_ ** .” 

He gives me an purposefully obvious wink, and I succumb to more laughter. Roger grabs my hand, and I glance at him suspiciously as he tugs me gently towards him.

“Come on, let’s head back in. We can go look for Freddie together. You’re obviously ready to crash for the night.” Roger said. 

“Yer cute, but if that’s code for tryin’ to fuck- -”

Roger snorts at this and shakes his head at me.

“I don’t shag drunk women, sweetheart. You’re hot as hell, don’t get me wrong. Another time perhaps. I’ll have you practically begging for me.” He replies flippantly.

Before I can say anything else he tugs me closer until my body collides into his. Roger has his arm around my waist almost protectively as he brings me back into the pub. 

* * *

_ Wednesday, December 31st, 1969... _ ****  
** **

I don’t read the card my older brother has sent me for two weeks after that night meeting Brian and Roger. It just sits on the kitchen table unopened. Oh how I longed to open it, but something deep down compels me not to. Freddie takes notice of this, but tries not to say anything, and I can tell it’s because he doesn’t think it’s in his place to do so. I can tell it bothers him though.

After my birthday, Freddie and I actually start to hang out with Tim, Brian, and Roger more often. Freddie, Tim, and Brian all look absolutely confused when they realize that Roger and I are no longer fighting when we both return inside the pub together, but each seem relieved that there’s no more anger lingering between us. Freddie keeps teasing me relentlessly when he takes note that I’m wearing Roger’s fur coat and sunglasses.

Roger and Freddie become quick friends too, having a shared interest in fashion. Brian and I also gush over our interest in music since we’re both guitarists and songwriters. I admit that I’m hesitant to even mention the fact that I like to write songs, but Brian is more than encouraging. Tim is even supportive as he brings up the guitar he’d been wanting to give me, saying he’d give it to me free of charge since it was my birthday.

I nearly freaked out when he mentioned it was a Gibson Les Paul Deluxe. From there on, the night became a blur of excitement and fun. Between my job as a waitress, I started branching out and hanging out with Brian and Tim as well as Roger. It surprised Freddie as well as myself that I was willingly going to socialize with other people, since I was such an introvert before I’d met Fred.

On the day of News Years Eve, almost an entire year since having met Fred, I actually feel at peace for the first time in my life. It was the first time in years since I’d had so many friends that I _enjoyed_ being around. Despite being in the UK for over a year, I never ventured out far or made any meaningful connections. It was finally the new start I had dreamt of.

Currently, with Roger and Brian, I hung out in an empty classroom since they’d reserved it for band rehearsals. Being encouraged by Freddie, I brought my notebook and new Gibson guitar that Tim had gifted me. For the next hour or so, Brian shows me some really nice riffs and gives me solid advice on how to properly play as we wait for Tim to arrive. Unsure of how the conversation gets brought up, each of us end up discussing all of the instruments we’ve ever played.

“You mentioned that you play drums too? Let’s hear it.” Roger smirked.

“No. I haven’t played for a long time. Trust me, you don’t want me near that set of yours.” I joked.

“Oh I’m sure you’re not that bad.” Brian assured me. “You’ve at least got some experience with it.”

“Try ten years worth.” I mutter under my breath.

At this, Roger raises an eyebrow, his expression now full of intrigue and curiosity.

“Why’d you stop? You said your old man destroyed your drum set but…” Roger trails off.

“I mean, I couldn’t exactly afford to replace any of it, so I stopped. Simple as that.” I sighed.

“Well come here and play something.” Roger urged me.

“I’m not sure if I remember- -”

“You just said you have ten years worth of playing. Don’t give me that bullshit, baby girl.” Roger huskily spoke.

I feel a blush form on my cheeks from the pet name as I put down my guitar gently on a stand nearby. I feel myself nearly shaking with nerves as I reluctantly come over to Roger’s drum set. He smiles as he holds out his drumsticks to me, fingers brushing against mine as I take them from him. Sitting down, I grip the drumsticks tightly as I sift through my memories, trying to recall how I used to play. 

“Just roll with it.” Roger chuckled.

_ Okay...what’s a good song that I know? One with a good beat… _

“Don’t get on her case Rog…I’m pretty sure she’s trying to think.” Brian rolled his eyes.

Gently tapping on the foot pedal for the hi-hat cymbal, I contemplate what song to pick. Feeling the drumsticks in my hands has me almost inspired. Flashes of childhood memories worm their way into my mind. I close my eyes as I hear the beat of the cymbals with every tap of my foot.

_ “Don’t think, Jackie. Just play. Feel the beat...feel the rhythm. Play.” _

Finally, I begin pounding the drums with the first song that comes to mind. I sing softly as I imagine the song playing in my mind. From there, my surroundings begin to fade into nothing as if I’m alone in the room. I bob my head to the beat of Led Zeppelin’s  _ Whole Lotta Love _ , it was a heavily addicting song that I couldn’t help but be drawn to. I listened to the record every chance I got.

When the song finishes playing in my mind, I slowly come to a stop as I wipe the sweat from my forehead. I place the drumsticks down carefully along the snare drum temporarily as I move to put my hair in a ponytail. I feel a wave of euphoria course through my body, like another weight had been lifted from my very being. I stand up feeling invigorated as well as exhausted as I pick up the drumsticks once more and move away from the drum set. 

Roger and Brian look at me with wide eyes, and for a moment, I feel embarrassed as I wonder whether or not my playing was terrible. Then, I hear clapping from the entryway and see Freddie with Tim. Freddie has a bright grin on his face as he whistles at me, while Tim just resumes clapping with enthusiasm. Roger rushes over to me, picking me up and twirling me in his arms as he laughs excitedly. 

“Holy shit! That was mad brilliant, luv!” Roger smiled.

“It wasn’t terrible?” I raised an eyebrow.

“ _ Terrible? _ ” Roger echoed loudly. “The fuck are you on about? That was great!”

At Roger’s enthusiasm, I can’t help but crack a grin as I’m put at ease. I relax into Roger’s hold as he drapes an arm around my shoulder.

“I guess I’ve still got it.” I shrugged.

“Bloody hell, I think I may very well be in love.” Roger sighs happily.

At this, Brian snorts and shakes his head at Roger when he sees the look on my face.

“You were great, Jack.” Brian assured me. “I’ve mentioned before that Rog is a bloody flirt right?”

“Oi! Piss off! You cannot tell me that  _ that  _ wasn’t incredible!” Roger shouted.

“I never said that it wasn’t! But you’re practically drooling all over the poor girl! Give her some air, Rog!” Brian laughed.

I pull away from Roger, feeling too warm for comfort as I fan myself with one hand. I reach down and take off my sweatshirt, hearing a choked noise from Roger as I toss it to the side where my bag is. After getting my water bottle and taking a swig, I hear a whistle from Freddie.

“Oh fuck off.” I chuckled.

Freddie leans against the table where I’m at, plucking my water bottle from my grasp as he also takes a drink. I roll my eyes at him before playfully punching his arm. 

“That was splendid, darling. Almost as good as Roger.” Freddie smirked.

“Almost?” Tim raised an eyebrow. “I think she’s just as good if not better.”

I can feel my face heat up as Roger gives his bandmate a dirty glare.

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that, mate.” Tim assures him. “You know you’re fucking amazing, Rog. Don’t get me wrong.”

“Damn right I am.” Rog grumbles.

“I just didn’t know the girl had it in her. Color me impressed.” Tim chuckled.

Tim gives me a playful nudge of the shoulder.

“Now, if you lot don’t mind, I’d like to start practice. I know it’s New Year’s Eve, but we’ve got a show tomorrow.” Tim told us.

Brian and Roger nod as they take their positions while Freddie and I stay back and hang out near the desks. Freddie folds his arms as I grab my notebook and begin writing the first thing to come to mind. As the band begins to play, Freddie leans over, his chin propped on my shoulder as he looks down to see what I’m writing.

“ _ Spread your little wings, and fly away. _ ” Freddie sings quietly. “I like it. Do you mind if I add more to it?” 

I smile warmly at my best friend and nod, handing him my pen and notebook as he appears deep into thought. Once he begins writing, he bobs his head and hums as he comes up with more lyrics on the fly. I can’t help but once again be impressed with Freddie Bulsara. He was a brilliant man, more so than he let on.

“ _ Spread your little wings, and fly away. Fly away. Far away….Pull yourself together, ‘cause you know you should do better. That’s because you’re a free man. _ ” I mutter softly. “Jesus, Fred. You’re a goddamn lyrical genius.” 

“Thank you, dear.” Freddie kisses my cheek.

* * *

Later that evening, Freddie nearly shoves me into my bedroom as he gives me an outfit to try on. I look at my body-length mirror in horror as I wear a high waisted mini skirt with a low cut tank-top and kitten heel pumps that matched. I glare at Freddie as I open my door and tell him how ridiculous I look, to which he responds by shutting me up with a kiss. Then, he orders me to go do my makeup and gently urges me into the bathroom with my makeup bag. I'm mostly confused by the time I return to our living room feeling absolutely naked in these clothes, and Freddie also looks dressed to impressed as he loops his arm with mine. 

That’s when he tells me that we’re going to a party being held at the pub nearby. Once he mentions that everyone we know will be there, I relax, but only just barely. The pub is absolutely filled to the brim with people, and immediately I’m anxious.  Sensing this, Freddie brings me to the bar, ordering a cocktail for me to help calm my nerves before we worm our way through the sea of people. I see Brian hanging out in a booth nearby alone, and this time, I lead Freddie over. Freddie smiles as we take a seat across from Brian, who looks happy and relieved to see us.

“Hey, Bri! You look like you could use some company!” I shouted over the noise.

“When’d you two get here?” Brian smiled.

“We just arrived, darling! Fashionably late of course!” Freddie teased.

“Are Tim and Roger with you?” I asked.

Brian reaches for his glass, taking a sip of his beer as he rolls his eyes. Freddie suddenly stands up, telling me he’s also going to fetch a drink, and leaves us alone. Brian blushes as he snaps out of his daze. He realizes he hasn’t answered me just yet.

“Yeah, but I’ve been ditched. Not like I’m really surprised though. It’s almost midnight We’ve got about...one hour.” Brian replied. “I saw Roger heading to the bathroom with some girl, and Tim...I’m not really sure where the hell he is actually.”

Ignoring the slight pang in my chest, although I’m uncertain of why, I grab Brian’s hand and give him a reassuring smile. 

“Well fuck them right?” I joked.

Brian shrugs as he returns the smile and finishes the remainder of his beer, although there isn’t much left. I casually down the rest of my drink, sighing happily as I feel the slight warmth of the alcohol travelling down from my chest to my stomach. Then, after hearing another loud song come a jukebox, I resist the urge to wince as everyone sings along loudly and drunkenly. Noticing my discomfort, Brian stands up and points towards the exit.

“You want to step outside for a bit?” Brian yelled. “I can barely hear myself think!”

I nod in agreement and follow Brian as he grabs my hand. Much similar to the night of my birthday, I can feel the cold breeze as soon as we step outside. I’m thankful to have brought a coat this time, as I snuggle into it for warmth. For a minute, Brian and I stand outside in awkward silence as we move to sit on a bench on the other side of the entrance to the pub.

“Jesus. It was so fucking loud in there.” I groaned.

“Yeah…” Brian nodded in agreement.

I let out a yawn and stretch as I pull out my pocket watch. The clock reads 11:24. 

“Wow...is that...gold?” Brian coughs.

I see Brian eye my pocket watch in surprise, and I’m quick to put it back in my pocket.

“Yeah...it belonged to my grandfather.” I smiled. “I almost sold it, y’know...me and Fred were a couple dollars short of our rent and...I was almost desperate enough to sell this thing. It’s been in my family for several generations I think.” 

“That’s amazing. What was that design on the front there?” Brian asked.

I hesitantly pulled out the pocket watch again and hand it over to Brian.

“It’s the Ursa Minor.” I answered. “You see it?”

I tried showing him “The Little Bear” carefully engraved onto the pocket watch. I could see Brian’s excitement as he holds it up under the streetlamp above us to get a closer look. Seeing that smile on his face makes me happy. Brian almost reminds me of my twin sister with her kind and gentle nature as well as her eagerness to learn new things.

“This is beautiful.” Brian lets out a breathless chuckle. 

“My great  _ great  _ grandparents, got engaged with the full view of the Ursa Minor. It was some romantic picnic under the stars.” I recalled. “My mom used to tell me all about it when I was younger. She gave me this watch on my birthday...before she...left.” I chose my words carefully.

Brian senses my tone before giving me back my pocket watch, but not before I check the time again. The clock now reads 11:37. I put my pocket watch away before reaching down my bra, amused by Brian’s reaction as I pull out a joint with my lighter. I light it up and take a hit, before offering it to Brian.

“Oh don’t give me that look. If I’m gonna be forced to go out in public looking like this, I’m gonna have some fun while I do it.” I smirked.

“I think you look great.” Brian blurted out.

“Thanks...it’s not exactly...comfortable. Or even remotely warm. I don’t normally wear this type of shit. Freddie just likes to dress me up sometimes.” I chuckled.

Brian reluctantly takes my joint from my hand, but doesn’t take a hit. When he notices that I’m staring at him, Brian visibly blushes and puts it up to his lips.

“I don’t normally...smoke. I’ve only done it two other times.” Brian mumbles.

I give Brian a sympathetic look as I rub his arm.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I smiled warmly. “I just thought you’d want to destress.”

“No. It’s fine…” Brian cracks a smile.

After taking a hit, Brian coughs uncontrollably, and I can’t help but gently pat his back. Brian hands me back the joint, but not before giving me a look of confusion. 

“Do you know what shot gunning is? Roger made some kind of joke about it...I figured it had to do with smoking? I mean, I’m not completely clueless but I wasn't entirely sure either- -”

“Nah, it’s okay. I mean, I’ve personally never tried it. I think you’re supposed to take a hit, and let the smoke uh...pass from your mouth into someone else’s. I mean...it sounded interesting and I’ve wanted to do it at least once in my life. Why? You wanna try that?” I raised an eyebrow.

Brian’s eyes widen as he looks at me nervously. After a minute, Brian shrugs almost uncaringly, trying to seem calm and collected as he faces me again. I can’t help but sympathize with Brian, and give him another warm smile to help put him at ease. It seems to do the trick as Brian scoots closer to me on the bench.

“I mean...sure? I’ll try it if you will.” Brian sounded unsure.

“Okay. Well…” I hum thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll just uh...get closer.”

I scoot even closer, invading Brian’s personal space. I adjust myself so that I’m sitting on my knees, able to reach Brian’s face.

“Alright. I’ll take a hit and then...you just open your mouth and uh...inhale the smoke.” I mutter awkwardly.

Brian flushes as he nods, and I scoot just a little bit closer. I finally take a hit, and hold in the smoke as I quickly move and cradle Brian’s cheek in my hand. Brian’s lips part, and I feel my lips graze his as I let out an exhale. I repeat the process for the next several minutes with Brian, and the two of us pause when we hear shouting in the distance. I pull out my pocket watch in a daze, and realize it’s 11:59. 

“Well shit. It’s almost midnight.” I spoke up.

Brian perks up, swaying in his spot as he attempts to sit taller. I attempt to do the same, but can’t seem to move my legs properly. Brian looks amused upon noticing this, and pulls my legs from underneath me until they’re outstretched over his. I giggle when I see that I’m practically sitting in Brian’s lap, and apparently, my clumsiness is enough to also make Brian laugh as well.

From inside, we can hear the countdown, and I find myself anxious as my heart flutters. Whether it’s from the effect of the weed we smoked, or from something else, I stare up at Brian in pure awe. I inch closer to Brian, hearing his breath hitch when I straddle his lap. I let out a low whine in the back of my throat when I feel the telltale signs of an erection poking me from below. Brian’s hands move to grip my waist a little too tightly, as he waits in anticipation.

_ 10….9…..8….. _

“Can I kiss you?” I blurt out.

Brian nods almost frantically and I smile warmly at him as I begin to lean down.

_ 7…..6…..5….. _

I place my hand on his cheek again as my joint hangs loosely between my fingers along my other hand.

_ 4…..3…...2…..1….. _

Ignoring the shouts of everyone inside, I press my lips to Brian’s, feeling my eyes fall shut in bliss.

_ “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!” _

I let out a moan as Brian’s lips part, and timidly lick my way into his mouth. In the back of my mind, I’m reminded of the time Freddie and I shared a kiss. Brian is more tentative and slower than Freddie, but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. We break apart when someone’s whistling at us.

* * *

_ February of 1970 _ ****  
** **

With Freddie being busy as of late with bands like  _ Wreckage  _ and  _ Sour Milk Sea _ , I had been seeing him less and less in our apartment. I spend more time with Tim, Roger, and Brian to distract myself in between work. As I’d predicted, Brian had been all too anxious to be near me since New Year’s Eve, but I could hardly blame him. We were almost close enough to be having sex in public, our mind’s addled and hazy from the weed we smoked together. 

Every time I _would_ try to talk to him alone, he’d find some excuse to avoid the conversation. It was frustrating at times, but being in his shoes, I understood that feeling of anxiety all too well over such a topic of conversation. Brian and I were alike in this regard, or so I liked to believe. Apparently, everyone else could sense the tension between us as well. 

“Hey, you got a minute?” I asked.

Brian’s breath hitches, and he glances down at me apprehensively. I can see him bite his bottom lip as he twiddles his thumbs together nervously.

“I mean, Roger probably needs help setting up- -” Brian stammered.

“Brian. I think you can spare me five minutes. Come on, let’s go.” I mumble softly.

I nod at him before gesturing towards the exit with a jab of my thumb behind me. Unlike the other times Brian had rejected me, he slowly nods in agreement. Before following me outside, we hear Roger shout from across the room, bass drum in his arms.

“Hey Bri! Where are you goin’?” Roger asked.

“Just getting a breath of fresh air!” Brian replied.

“What for? We just got here, mate.” Roger raised an eyebrow.

Brian moves out of the way, revealing me standing behind  him. Roger’s smile falters upon seeing me with Brian, and he can tell something is up because of my expression. Brian coughs awkwardly, his eyes flickering towards Roger and the door nervously. I quickly pick up on Brian’s hint, and put on a smile.

“It’s fine Rog. Just wanted to ask Brian for some advice.” I lied.

Roger lightly scoffs, but gives me a suspicious look through his smile.

“And you can’t do that here, luv?” Roger pried.

“Well it’s kinda personal, so yeah-  _ -no _ . Don’t wanna do it here.” I chuckled.

I grab Brian’s hand, before heading towards the exit again. I hear some cursing behind us when the bass drum drops to the stage and echoes through the room loudly. Once the doors slam shut behind us, I turn to face Brian, giving him a small glare. He looks almost sheepish as he faces me.

“H- -hi. So, how are you, Jacqueline?” Brian asked politely.

“Well my friend has been ignoring me since New Year’s Eve, so not too great. Look Brian, I just wanted to tell you that it’s oka- -”

“I….I didn’t dislike the kiss!” Brian blurted out.

“Then what’s wrong?” I questioned. “You’re giving me mixed signals. You don’t even look at me anymore!”

“I just thought- -!” Brian shouted. “Sorry. I just thought you didn’t actually see me that way. We were under the influence of marijuana- -” He lowered his voice.

“Did you like it or not?” I spluttered.

“I just told you that I did.” Brian looked confused.

“Because I liked it too. Weed or not, I liked it. And it’s okay if you liked it too. We didn’t go that far- -”

“Jacqueline, my hand was under your skirt.” Brian blushed madly. 

“But we didn’t actually get any farther than making out a little- -”

“Those drunken idiots bloody well stopped us when they came out of the pub. What if- -if...” Brian pointed out.

“Brian, there’s so many what if’s and it doesn’t matter now. Things happened the way they happened and it’s not getting taken back. Relax.” I told him.

“I didn’t want our first time to be out of our drugged out minds in public on a bloody bench!” Brian snapped.

_ Our first time? Well well...what’s this? Brian actually likes me? _

“So you want to pursue this?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I- -I mean, I- -” Brian stuttered nervously.

“Pursue a relationship? Date? Yes? No?....Maybe so?” I crack a small smile.

“Well I mean yes, but- -” Brian mutters.

“I hear a yes, so what’s the problem? What’s with the hesitation? I’m not trying to sound desperate, but seriously. Am I that repulsive?” I replied.

“No! Of course not. I think you’re quite lovely, Jack. Okay fine…” Brian sighed. “Do you want to date me? I think I really like you, but I’m not quite sure yet. I just know that I love spending time with you. That’s why I’ve been nervous at approaching this. We could probably lose our friendship if I screw this up, and I think you’re insanely attractive and amazing as a person. I  **don’t** want to lose you as my friend.” Brian rambled.

“Brian, if we don’t work out, I’m perfectly fine being friends with you. You’re a cool guy.” I smiled warmly at him.

Brian finally cracks a smile, his expression now full of complete and utter  _ relief _ .

“You’re serious? You’ll still be my friend after all this?”

“What’s with all that?  _ After all this? _ We haven’t even dated yet, so we don’t know how this thing will end or if it’ll continue. Brian, you’ll always be my friend no matter what! Being in a relationship or not won’t fucking change that.” I laughed.

“Sorry. Just...I’m not used to people like  **you** . You’re so….open-minded and relaxed unlike so of the many people I know and it’s so  _ refreshing _ . I love that about you.” Brian grinned.   


“And I love how warm and kind you are. Now, do you wanna date or not?” I asked again.

I open my arms out wide as I smile at Brian. He lets out a small laugh as he scratches his nose, and  returns the gesture before hugging me. I bury my face into his chest, kissing at his exposed skin through his button up shirt. Brian grips at my chin, pulling my face up before planting a firm kiss to my lips.

“Just….let’s date for one week and see how things go. If we decide we want to go further, let’s fucking do it!” I cheered.

“You are so nonchalant about all of it.” Brian chuckled.

“I’m a laid back person, what can I say?” I smirked.

We’re interrupted when we see Tim walking down the street towards us. Tim glances at us in confusion when he comes to a stop at the entrance of the auditorium. Brian’s smile almost vanishes as he grows uncomfortable, the longer his friend stares at the two of us. It was almost like going back to square one as Brian reverts back into his normally shy and timid self.

“Everythin’ okay over here, mate?” Tim asked.

“We’re fine.” Brian muttered.

Tim glances over at me inquisitively, clearly seeking answers. I fold my arms and smirk at Tim.

“Just asking Brian for some advice.” I lied smoothly. “I’m thinking about joining this band in need of a guitarist.”

Tim looks at me in surprise, before he shakes his head.

“Don’t tell me you said yes.” Tim blurts out nervously.

At this reaction, Brian and I share a look of confusion.

“Look, I like you, Jack. You’re... _ really _ fucking talented. But you know nothin’ about being in a band.” Tim said.

I scoff at Tim, and roll my eyes in annoyance.

“Believe it or not, I actually **do** know what it’s like to be in a band considering I have been in  _ several _ .” I pointed out.

Brian puts a hand on my arm, most likely to calm me, but it does little to help me.

Tim looks at me apologetically, realizing how his previous statement had come out across as.

“Sorry, luv. I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want anyone taking advantage of you.” Tim assured me.

I take a deep breath before smiling at Tim, knowing his intentions were meant to be good.

“Then say it like that. Don’t beat around the bush because I’m a girl.” I joke lightly.

Tim looks relieved, but nods in understanding.

“Why don’t you stick with us?” Tim asked.

“As what…? A guitarist? I believe you already have one. Literally standing right here.” I gestured to Brian. “You guys don’t need me in your band.” I chuckled.

Brian reaches down and grasps my hand to my surprise. I glance at him with wide eyes, and see that cute little smile on his face. I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest at how adorable Brian is at times. 

“You could be anything you want, Jack. Guitarist...back up vocals...doesn’t matter. Why don’t you try playing with us in rehearsal? See how we fit together?” Brian spoke up.

“Really now? You’d let me...play with you guys?” I stammer nervously.

“Jack, you’re always at our band rehearsals. I don’t see why not. You know our songs, you know  _ us _ .” Tim added. “I’m more than okay with this.”

“And why do you want me to be apart of Smile so badly?” I raised an questioning eyebrow.

“Less competition.” Tim shrugs.

After seeing the annoyed look from both Brian and I, Tim cracks a smile and laughs.

“I’m joking.” He said. “Sort of...but you’re a good friend.”

“And what do you think Roger would say about all this? Shouldn’t this be a  _ band  _ decision?” I spluttered out nervously.

_ What the actual hell is happening right now? I was only trying to cover up for Brian because he doesn’t want anyone to know we’re ‘dating’ now. Now I’m being roped into their band? _

“Roger- -” Tim started.

My eyes widen when the man himself bursts through the entrance. Roger has a huge grin on his face as he comes right over to us.

“Is right here. I approve.  _ More  _ than approve. You’re really going to join us, baby girl? This is fucking great.” Roger laughs.

I find myself blushing from the attention as all three men look at me expectantly.

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t wanna be a lead singer or- -”

“Nah, that would be me.” Tim smirked. “Why don’t you be another guitarist? Y’know, since that’s what you normally play?” 

“Well shit. This is actually happening.” I muttered. “Um...I mean...if you guys want me to. Sure, I’ll fucking join.” 

Roger let’s out a cheer as he pulls me towards him and twirls me in his arms.

“YEEEEHAAAW!” Roger shouts.

I burst out laughing as Roger throws me over his shoulder and runs around excitedly.

“Roger! Put her down!” Brian yelled nervously.

* * *

_ April 1970 _ ****  
** **

There were many changes with the start of this new year. For one thing, Roger and Freddie owned a stall in Kensington Market. This also in turn, resulted with Roger moving into our apartment with us. Now living with two fashionistas, as well as flirtatious drama queens, it was harder to get any sort of privacy and alone time. 

Brian and I were also going fairly steady in our relationship. It was almost like I was sent back to high school with the cheesy hand holding and chaste kisses. With Brian though, I actually felt content with the way things were. Brian was intellectually stimulating as a person, and I could listen to him talk for hours about interplanetary dust.

Brian was often insecure about himself, about his interests, but he would try his best to open up to me. I returned the same courtesy to him, and aside from Freddie, Brian now knew more about my past. Which also led to the conversation of the unopened letter from my brother sent from America. Despite being in a relationship with Brian, he was very apprehensive about showing his affection, and then it made me wonder if he was embarrassed of me.

_ Those moments of rejection stung. _

I mean, did Tim or Roger even know that we were dating? I couldn’t help but become more aware of Brian’s actions. Normally, I would think it was his shy nature that stopped him from kissing me, but again, I wasn’t entirely sure. Thinking back on the first week of us becoming intimate, we never really talked about...us.

_ Shit...were we even official? It’s been well over two months... _

Coming home from work, I hang up my coat by the door before reaching down my dress and grabbing a joint tucked into my bra. I light it up and close my eyes as I lean against the door, trying to recollect my thoughts and unwind. Hearing a cough from the couch in the living room, I see Brian and Roger sitting together. Both are looking at me with surprise, but Roger with more amusement.

“Have a good day at work, baby girl?” Roger asked.

_ And there’s that fucking nickname...I...I hate it. Or do I? I don’t fucking know. _

I hold in the smoke in my lungs, before exhaling deeply through my nose after a solid minute.

“I just wanna crawl into bed and never come out.” I breathed out.

“Was work...bad then?” Brian raised an eyebrow.   


I let out a dry chuckle, taking another drag before walking over to the couch. I kick off my heels uncaringly as I plop down on the couch in between Roger and Brian. Brian places a comforting hand on my arm as he gives me a look of sympathy. I give him a small smile at the gesture.

“I mean, I got fired for punching a guy who got too handsy with me so...yeah...there’s that. Doesn’t matter that I was nearly assaulted at work, but y’know.  _ The customer’s always right _ .” I replied sarcastically.

I can feel Roger’s anger radiate as he sits up taller, huffing quietly as he turns towards me.

“Wait a minute, you got fired? For fuckin’ what?  _ Defending  _ yourself?” Roger nearly shouted. “Tell me you at least got a good punch in on that fuckin’ cock- -”

“Roger.” Brian snapped quietly.

Roger ignores Brian, as he looks at me expectantly. I merely hold up my swollen hand, red and becoming purple by each passing second. Brian almost resembles a deer with his wide eyed stare. Roger, however, cracks a grin and claps a hand on my other shoulder as if he’s proud. I can’t help but laugh before I take another hit.

“Ha...you should see the other guy. Probably sporting a good black eye right about now.” I joked.

“Fuckin’ right! That’s my girl!” Roger laughed.

I can feel Brian tense next to me as he gets up. I find my smile faltering as I look towards Brian worriedly before following him to the kitchen. As Brian grabs something from the freezer, I gently tap him on the arm, giving him a look of confusion. Brian holds up a bag of peas before placing them along my knuckles.

“I still can’t believe you got yourself hurt...I’m sorry.” Brian muttered.

“It’s fine, it honestly doesn’t even hurt anymore.” I replied.

“So...you got fired? Just like that? You’ve been there for over two years.” Brian sighed.

“Well, I’m getting my last paycheck by the end of the week. I’ll just...find another job.” I shrugged.

“I don’t understand how you’re so... _ nonchalant _ about it. You needed that job for rent.” Brian gives me a knowing look.

I try to reassure Brian with a smile.

“Well I got out my aggression when I punched that asshole. Now’s the time to move past it and just...look forward.” I told him.

“Please don’t make it a habit to punch people. I don’t need another Roger in my life.” Brian chuckled softly.

I move forward and throw Brian by surprise when I plant a gentle kiss on his lips. He gasps lightly, almost chasing back my lips when I pull back.

“I always solve my problems with my fists. Didn’t you know? Crazy American and all that.” I joked.

Before Brian can reply, we both hear Roger shout from the living room.

“Oi! What the hell’s taking so bloody long? I want a hit of that joint you’ve got, Jack!”

I roll my eyes, giving Brian one last peck to the cheek before returning to the living room and to my spot on the couch.

“Brian got me a makeshift ice pack.” I chuckled. 

“Doctor Brian May helping his patients, huh?” Roger winked.

_ He's not that kind of a doctor, but sure... _

“You know it.”

I move to hand Roger my joint, but he quickly stops me when he shows that his hands are full of assorted items like books, papers, and a cup of tea.

“Shotgun it for me, would you baby girl?” Roger breathes out.

I feel my face heat up from the memory of when I first tried shot gunning with Brian. 

“Um...I’d prefer...not to?”

Roger bursts out laughing at my reaction.

“Oh my god. Did you just squeak?” Roger smirked. “Stop being adorable and just shotgun it. Or are you like my innocent Brian and don’t know what shot gunning is?”

Roger takes a sip of tea, as he waits for my answer.

“Well I mean...I know what it is but- -”

“Then, hurry the fuck up. I’ve gotta get a shower shortly.” Roger chuckled.

“You are a fucking child.” I grumbled.

I roll my eyes at Roger’s impatience, reluctantly complying and taking a hit. Roger leans forward, his lips grazing mine as they part. Roger maintains direct eye contact as I exhale smoke into his mouth. His expression remains playful, but is also laced with something else. I quickly turn away just as Brian comes back in with another cup of tea. 

_ It was just shot gunning, it wasn’t even a fucking kiss. Why am I so flustered right now? Is it just because it’s Roger? Well...yeah, it’s fucking Roger. _

“Here you go, luv.”

I graciously take the cup from Brian and turn away from Roger. I can hear shuffling from Roger’s end as he gathers up more items in his arms and moves to stand up.

* * *

The tension within Smile became more apparent with each passing day as it nears the end of April. It started with the failed release of our one-off deal with Trident Studios. Which ended up leading to some ridiculous and obscure American single release. It was a risk that we were afraid of even taking being such a small and lesser known band, but Tim insisted it would put our names out there. 

Freddie had also  been more absent from the apartment as of late, and as worried as I am about my best friend, I had more pressing matters. I had to find another job, which was admittedly more difficult than I had originally anticipated. Roger offers me a spot at the stall that he and Freddie run together on Kensington Market, but I decline politely. I end up going to every place imaginable that was hiring, even retail stores and clothing shops.

That’s what led me to a place called Biba. This place looks like a wet dream for Freddie or Roger, and I honestly have no idea what drew me in. I was normally used to working in a restaurant type of work environment. I try to relax and reassure myself that a nice change of pace in work would be good for me.

I explore the store and try to become more familiar, and find my eyes landing on a fur coat much similar to Roger’s of the night we’d met. I smile fondly at the memory it brings back and run my fingers over the material. I’m lost in thought when someone reaches to tap my shoulder gently. I blush when I come to face with a blonde woman with such a kind smile.

“Are you finding everything okay, ma’am?”

“Um, yeah. I’m just wondering where I can find the manager.” I blurt out.

For some reason, she looks at me in surprise, although I can’t figure out why. She senses my confusion and clears her throat awkwardly as she fights off a blush on her face.

“O- -oh, my manager isn’t here right now. Did you have an interview with him?” She asked.

Finding myself grow more self conscious, I can’t help but avert my gaze as I give her a small shake of my head.

“I mean, I wanted to talk about that job posting. I saw your sign out the window.” I muttered.

“Right. Of course. Well...let me get your name and number, and I’ll pass it onto him. Do you have any experience in sales?”

_ Make a good impression. Be professional. _

“I was a waitress for a solid two years. I have little experience with sales, but I think I more than make up for it in regards to customer service.” I replied. “Plus my friends own a uh- -a stall in Kensington Market. They’re very...knowledgeable in regards to fashion, so I picked up a lot from them.” 

A flash of recognition seems to cross her face, and I find my heart flutter with anxiety.

“Wait a minute...do you know Freddie Bulsara?” She blurted out.

“Freddie? Yeah, he’s my roommate.” I nodded.

She finally cracks a smile, and I try to not look as nervous as I feel. 

“I’m uh...Freddie’s girlfriend. Mary. Mary Austin. We met at a pub once, yeah?” Mary introduced herself. "You performed in that band. Smile was it?"

_ WHOA! Girlfriend? When the fuck was this? _

I give her a fake smile as I nod and shake her hand.

“Yeah, I remember!” I lied. “Um, sorry for not recognizing you so sooner! I thought you looked familiar. Just didn’t want to assume- -” 

“It’s okay if you don’t. We only met once over a month ago. Freddie thought I should tag along so I did.” She chuckled. “I remember you got into a drinking competition with that Roger fellow.”

_ So is this why I don’t see Freddie anymore? He never told me about her...why? _

“Ha! Yeah.” I chuckled. “Good times.”

“Oh Freddie never shuts up about you, his little Brooklyn Jaybird he calls you. He told me you’re an American.” Mary giggled.

_ Yeah, well Freddie never mentioned you to me...ever. _

I find myself blushing in embarrassment, but confirm with a nod.

_ Although I have absolutely no room to talk about secrets. Brian and I are sorta in an unspoken relationship. _

“Well give me your name, and I’ll be sure to talk you up to my manager, yeah? I should have your number since you live with Freddie.” Mary smiled.

Mary reaches behind into her back pocket, grabbing an old receipt and a used up pen. I let out a chuckle as I jot down my information, and give her a polite goodbye.

* * *

Brian gives me a small kiss to my cheek as he greets me at the pub. He looks more anxious than he normally does, but I can’t seem to figure out why. As wait for Roger and Tim, we start getting ready for our gig. I tune my guitar, practically feeling Brian’s gaze on me the entire time.

“C- -can we talk?”

_ Um...okay? _

I put down my guitar, giving Brian my undivided attention.

“Sure. What’s up?” I raised an eyebrow.

Brian tries to lean casually against the stage, but nearly ends up tumbling over. His clumsiness almost makes me laugh, but I manage to hold it in. However, upon seeing the serious look on Brian’s face, I can’t help but become nervous. Immediately, I began to assume the worst, and felt my stomach flutter from sheer anxiety.

_ Is he...ending things? Was it something I did? Was it because of... _

“Um...I was wondering...if you wanted to...tell Roger or Tim about us? Make things more official?” Brian asked hopefully.

_ Okay, wow. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him. _

I crack a smile and chuckle, before moving to hug Brian. I feel tears brimming in my eyes, and try to blink them away.

“Jesus fucking Christ. You had me so scared. I thought you were mad at me or something.” I laugh.

“Oh I’m so sorry, luv!” Brian’s eyes widened. “Shit, I...I didn’t mean to make you panic! It’s just been bothering me for a while is all! Please don’t cry!”

“Sorry! Can’t help it.” I grinned. “Got me all emotional. The perks of being a woman, eh?”

I wipe carefully at my eyes, trying to make sure my eye makeup isn’t ruined. Brian mutters apologies as he starts peppering sweet kisses along my face. I grab his chin to steady him, before placing a loving kiss to his lips. Brian doesn’t pull away like he normally does, and surprises me with a gentle nip to my bottom lip.

“Whoa...uh... _ wow _ .” Tim mutters.

We pull back to see Roger and Tim look at us with wide eyes, and already, I notice Brian become more shy and reserved as he pulls away. However, Brian drapes an arm around my shoulder, before pulling me closer to him. I feel giddy on the inside, finally feeling  _ stable  _ for the first time in months. I try to fight the grin on my face, and end up pursing my lips instead. Already, I’m itching to put something in my mouth, like one of my joints.

“What’s up?” Brian breathes out.

“How long has this been going on then?” Roger questioned.

“....a little over two months. It’s uh...mostly just been small dates here and there. Just made it official though.” Brian smiled.

Much to my surprise, Roger doesn’t laugh or offer a congratulations like I would have expected from him. He doesn’t give Brian a congrats or a proud clap on the shoulder. Instead, Roger lets out a dry chuckle and gives him a small nod.

“Nice, mate. Make sure you keep a good eye on this one though. Crazy American and all that.” Roger teased.

Unlike the other times he’s teased me, this feels different. It was more like a snide jab rather than his normal playful comments. Certainly, I can sense quite a bit of hostility from Roger. Although, for some reason, I have no idea why. I don’t remember doing anything to invoke this sort of reaction from my roommate.

_ Is Roger mad at me?  _

“I trust her.” Brian chuckled.

Tim looks just as tense, almost as if he’s hiding something. 

“Congrats are in order.” Tim smiled. “But let’s get ready for the show, yeah? We can get drinks after.”

Everyone nods before we break away, getting set up for the show. It takes a solid fifteen minutes before all the equipment is set, but finally, we’re all ready to go. I stand to the right of the stage in front of Roger’s drum set. Brian stands more closer to Tim on the left, while Tim is at the very front and center of the small platform stage.

For the most part, our show is pretty good. We sing in harmony, although Tim’s voice grows louder and tries to overpower us as we go through our set. Roger, unlike many other gigs, plays with such aggression, his eyes flickering over to me every few seconds. Brian plays as he normally does, with pure passion. I mostly try to keep up with Brian as I keep all of his previous advice in mind, as the two of us create a symphony with both our guitars.

When the show is over, almost two hours later, our small crowd of partygoers in the bar cheer and clap. Roger is quick to storm off stage as Brian helps me down. After putting our guitars in their proper cases, Brian and I move to the bar. To our surprise, Tim is nowhere to be seen, so it appears to just be the two of us alone.

“Hi Jacqueline! It’s so good to see you!”

I turn around to see Mary Austin, and find myself tense up as she hugs me. I pat her back and give her a kind smile as she pulls back. 

“Fred and I were watching you play. You guys were great.” Mary told me.

“Fred’s here?” I glance around. “I didn’t see him.”

“He’s just using the loo real quick. Come on, let’s grab a booth. I have some news for you.” Mary said.

Brian wordlessly follows, looking amused at my nervous reaction as he grabs us both a beer.

“So, I was talking to my manager about you. He said the job at Biba is all yours if you want it. I just have to train you.” Mary grinned.

I find myself nodding frantically as I swallow down my beer.

“Shit! Yeah! That’d be great!” I laugh. “Thank you so much!”

“Well, looks like you got yourself a job then, darling!”

My eyes widen in surprise as Fred claps a hand on my shoulder. He looks down at me with a grin on his face. Despite being his fucking roommate, this is very well the first time I’d truly seen him in weeks. I feel a little angered towards him, but don’t say anything as I turn my attention to Mary. I give her a look of complete gratitude.

“Seriously, thank you.” I told her.

She places her hands on mine as Freddie sits down with her.

“It’s not a problem.” She replied.

“This calls for a celebration then.” Brian smiled.

“I hear that.” Freddie smirked. 

* * *

A couple of hours later, it’s almost as if nothing is wrong anymore. Even as we pack up our equipment into Roger’s van, I feel relaxed and collected. Now that I got another job, things were looking up for me again. 

“You got everything?” Brian asked.

“I’m just getting the last of Roger’s drum kit now.” I nodded.

“Where the bloody hell is Roger anyway?” Brian frowned. “He’s usually around to help us clean up.”

“Hello my lovies. How goes everything?”

“Oh hey Fred. We’re just packing up.” Brian smiled.

“I wanted to say, _ you two, _ have gotten exceptionally good playing together. It’s like a duet with your instruments, they compliment each other so well.” Freddie smiled brightly.

“Thanks mate. Means a lot.” Brian replies sincerely.

I ignore Fred and place my guitar in the trunk, before grabbing my bag. As Brian and Freddie pass the time with conversation, I find my notebook buried deep down and take it out before skimming through it. It’s relatively empty since my old notebook was filled to the brim with unfinished lyrics and poems. I had almost forgotten that I’d gotten a new one. Before I can think of writing something down, I feel a gentle nudge from Brian.

“Freddie asked you something.” Brian muttered.

“Oh did he now?” I raised an eyebrow.

Freddie senses my bitter tone, and he’s quick to plant a kiss to my cheek as he gives me sheepish smile.

“Please don’t be mad at me, dear. I’ve just been busy as of late.”

“I didn’t even notice.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

Freddie nearly winces at the small jab, and I can’t help but feel a bit guilty. I let out a sigh, a frown forming on my face as I gather the courage to look him in the eyes.

_ Just cut to the chase...confront him. _

“Why didn’t you tell me about Mary?” I muttered softly. “Did you think I wouldn’t accept her?”

Freddie’s eyes widen slightly when I don't even beat around the bush , his expression full of hurt.

“Oh Jack, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’ll admit it, yes. I was afraid of telling you about her. You’re my best friend- -”

“You’ve been ignoring me for almost three _weeks_ , Fred. I haven’t had an actual conversation with you. And forget talking about it to Roger, his lips are sealed. He’ll just try to divert the topic to something else to distract me because of some bullshit man-code.”

Freddie places a hand on my shoulder to stop me from ranting.

“I assure you, I was...quite foolish. I was afraid you wouldn’t like Mary. It wasn’t even two years ago that you’d had a crush on me, dear.”

“Yeah.  _ Had. _ And I thought I told you not to bring that shit up.” I blushed.

I can already feel my lips quirk up, and immediately, I feel myself being pulled into Freddie’s embrace.

“Oh you could never get over me. I’m too irresistible.” Freddie joked.

“Well considering that Brian and I are dating...I think I might be able to finally move on.” I teased.

Freddie pulls back, glancing at Brian and I with excitement.

“I thought you two were way too friendly! I should’ve known!” Freddie shouted.

Tim shows up not long after, helping us load parts of Roger’s drum set into the car. To our surprise, Tim is unusually quiet as he keeps to himself. I place a hand on his arm as I turn him to face us.

“Tim, is everything okay? You look...upset.” I asked.

“Well, I mean...I’m not upset per say, but I was hoping to tell you lot before the night’s over. Where the fuck is Roger anyway?” Tim grumbled.

As if on cue, Roger is bursting through with his bass drum in his arms. He nearly staggers on his feet, and already, we can smell the stench of booze rolling off of him in waves.

“Hey! What’s with all the long faces? We played fuckin’ great tonight!” Roger cheered.

None of us know how the conversation starts, but soon enough, all four of us, Fred included, are looking at Tim in utter disbelief. Tim is leaving the band, he's leaving Smile, for some _other_ band. How long had Tim been waiting to tell us about his plans?

“Humpy Bong?” Brian echoes.

“Humpy Bong.” Tim nods. “They’re going places, they’re gonna be big.”

“ _ Humpy Bong?  _ Are you joking?” Roger glares at Tim.

“Don’t do it, Tim.” Brian shakes his head.

“I’m sorry guys, but we’re not goin’ anywhere with this. What college gigs? And pubs? Gotta give it a go.” Tim sighed.

It ends with Tim grabbing the case for his bass guitar, and walking away. All of us left at a loss for words. Roger looks ready to punch something, or rather  _ someone _ . Brian sits at the back of the van, holding his head in his hands. 

I just stand there, trying to swallow my anger and rage as I begin to pace back and forth. Finally, I snap, grabbing a joint from within my bra before lighting it up. I can feel my body relax as soon as the smoke hits my lungs.

“You really think now is the time to get high?” Roger scoffed. 

“Actually,  _ yes! _ Believe it or not!” I smiled thinly. “Why? Want a hit? I’m more than happy to share!”

Before Roger says anything, Brian stands up and snatches it right from my hand. I half expect Brian to chuck the joint and scold me, and I tense up. Much to our surprise, he takes a hit, inhaling a good amount and holding it in.

“Well shit.” Freddie muttered.

Brian coughs as he exhales, but he looks slightly more relaxed than he did previously.

“Sorry, think I needed that.” Brian sighed.

“It’s alright, Bri.” I smiled at him.

I give him a firm pat on the back as he continues to cough. I take the joint back before having another hit.

“Well?” Roger huffed.

“Well what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Pass that shit over then, baby doll.” Roger smirked.

I roll my eyes, but comply as I reluctantly hand it over to Rog. Roger’s face forms into complete bliss as his eyes fall shut. Then, he passes it to Freddie, who gladly takes it.

“Mmmm...this is nice. What is it, dear?” Freddie asked.

“Somethin’ called Pineapple Express. Got it from a friend.” I replied.

“Well...fuck...is anyone okay to drive?” Brian whined. “I only had one hit and I’m dazed as all hell right about now.”

Roger hums, though his eyes remain shut. His voice becomes low and husky, and I find my face flushing when he groans lowly.

“How far’s the apartment, Freddie?” Roger asked.

“You live there too, darling. It’s two blocks from here.” Freddie smirked.

“Fuck it. Everyone in the van.” Roger breathed out.


	2. The Start of a New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a wild turn, both in good and bad ways. Also, smut ahead in this chapter! There's warning enough for you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I stated in the chapter summary, there will be smut in this chapter. There's your warning. Also, on another note, I thought it was fitting to have my OC write Son and Daughter for their first album. I mean, obviously there's going to be little things like that throughout the story, but yeah...just thought I'd say something now so no one gets all pissy. It's just for the story. I don't actually own anything regarding Queen.

_May, 1970..._ ****  
** **

Things had taken a slight turn for the worse. Since Tim had left the band, we all felt a little more hopeless, and the feeling struck us often at random times. After Brian had decided to move in with us to save money, the pressure only grew with undergoing adjustments to accommodate having another flat mate. Brian set more rules around the apartment, gave us all more chores to complete. The small changes weren’t even that bad, but to both Freddie and Roger, they strongly disliked it because they were so used to doing their own thing.

Then, as the semester was coming to an end, Roger was having some kind of crisis in regards to finishing and obtaining his degree. The explosive blonde often voiced his fears about how he’d have to settle down with a job he resented if things with the band didn’t work out. In those times of panic, I normally had to calm down Roger and reassure him that things would work out with the band. Or risk having him throw another television set out the window like he's done numerous times.

 _Smoking weed often helped take the stress away too._  

Freddie worked two jobs at the moment, one at the airport, and one at the stall both he and Roger owned in Kensington Market. Between his jobs, he often found his own comfort in spending time with Mary and referred to her as his ray of sunshine. With Brian, however, he valued his education more than anything and was working diligently on his thesis for his Ph.D. in astrophysics. Brian’s moments of anxiety were much worse than Roger’s, and it saddened me when he got into that head space because it was hard to put him at ease.

While I had an associates degree in Graphic Design, I was a bit ashamed to admit that I hadn’t truly done anything with my education from Ealing Art College. Since being introduced to Roger, Brian, and Tim through Freddie, I had become rather enraptured in my passion for music rather than find a job to properly utilize my degree. So, I thought that maybe my time working at Biba would help inspire me to do more with the arts. Perhaps I could go into design even and learn a few things from Freddie himself.

Throughput the hardships of the past few weeks, I found that the best thing about dating Brian, was that I _never_ felt discouraged to do what I wanted. As long as I tried my absolute hardest, and as long as I was happy and passionate with what I was doing, Brian was supportive in everything that I did. Brian and I were at that stage that I more than comfortable with him, and even felt courageous enough to show him my most recent songbook. The little snippets of music I’d been working on during my free time that I normally kept to myself.

However, with the way things were going lately in general, everyone and everything felt more _strained_. All of us were becoming more tense in trying to get the bandwagon going for ~~~~Smile so to speak. To jump start our career. We hadn’t had such luck, but not for lack of trying. It was becoming more evident by each passing week that the stress was getting to everyone involved in the band.

_Especially with Roger’s more explosive tempers..._

“Fucking hell! This is bloody ridiculous! Why do I need to memorize this?!” Roger shouted angrily.

Hearing a crash in the living room, I tense up as I stir milk into my coffee and pray to the heavens that Roger didn’t throw the television out the window. Coming into the living room from the kitchen and nearly sighing in relief, I sit down on the couch and try to watch television with the volume low while Roger works on his studies. It was a showing of Disney’s the Aristocats, one of Freddie’s favorite movies. With papers and textbooks spread out across the coffee table, there was little room for my cup of coffee, so I hold it in my hands as I wait for it to cool.

I nearly jump when Roger slams his hands down onto his textbook in frustration. A look of pure rage on his expression when his eyes catch mine. He gives me a small glare, as if _daring_ me to say something. So being the idiot that I am, I did.

“How about you take a break?” I suggested.

“I would _love_ to. There’s just a matter of passing this final exam.” Roger sarcastically replied. “Fucking anatomy is a bitch. Stupid reproductive system _bullshit-_ -” he grumbled.

Finally having enough of Roger’s attitude, I turn off the TV and move to stand in between the coffee table and Roger himself.

“Roger. You’re not a fucking idiot. You know all this shit like the back of your hand. Stop stressing and come to my room, I have something that can help you relax.” I told him.

Roger’s eyes widen and he lets out an awkward cough as he averts his gaze.

“I uh...don’t think Brian would appreciate that- -”

_Wait...what does he- -OH._

“Not for sex, you dumb ass!” I scoffed. “I got a new bag of weed. You gonna smoke it with me or not? Fred was complaining about the smell in here, so we’re doing it in my room.”

Roger’s face visibly relaxes and he lets out a chuckle. I grab his hand, helping him to stand before leading him to my room.

“Is your answer to everything to get high?” Roger grinned.

“This isn’t for me. This is for _you_. Because you clearly need it more than I do.” I rolled my eyes.

As we go into my room, I start picking up various clothes and throw them into my basket in an attempt to clean up before cracking open the window. Roger sits on my bed, giving me a look of pure mischief that would put Freddie to shame. By the time I turn around, I see Roger with a pair of my underwear hooked on his finger and take in the unashamed grin on his face.

“Roger! The fuck?!” I squealed.

I snatch the undergarments from Roger, tossing it into the hamper as he shakes with laughter.

“Jesus Christ, woman. That _squeak!_ ” Roger snickered. “You sound like a bloody mouse! It's nothin' to be ashamed of, luv! I think red absolutely suits you!"

Feeling my face heat up, I smack Roger’s arm before taking a seat next to him on my bed. I roll my eyes again as I dig into my nightstand, opening a secret hatch before pulling out a bong and a small bag full of weed. Roger’s eyes widen slightly and he leans over to look in curiosity.

“You’ve got a secret compartment in your nightstand? What else do you got in there?”

I quickly shut it before Roger can get a good look inside.

“Nothing you need to know about.” I chuckled. “Anyway...you want the bong? Or do you want one of my nicely rolled joints?”

Roger swallows a lump in his throat before glancing down.

“I’ll have the bong.” He muttered.

In minutes, the two of us are all good to go, and take turns with the bong after I put on some music on the radio. When it kicks in, the high feels absolutely _amazing_ . Roger looks the most relaxed that I’ve seen him in _weeks_ as he lies back on my bed. I watch his blonde hair splay around him like a halo while those deep blue eyes glaze over. It almost gives me the urge to draw again.

For minutes, Roger and I lie together in my bed with a comfortable silence and even sing along to whatever’s on the radio. Then, when his eyes flicker over to my many knickknacks in my room, he starts up a conversation. His questions involve my life in America, why I left everything behind, and so forth. It’s the first time that I’ve come to realize, that I don’t feel as uneasy talking about my past as I used to. Maybe it’s because I already told Freddie and Brian.

_It just becomes easier to talk about..._

So, as the high takes over my body, I move to turn up the volume on the radio. As music fills the room, I smile and sway to the music, before being pulled back down onto my bed by Roger. Roger wears a languid and lethargic expression on his face, quite different from his angered one from earlier. He blinks at me dazedly and reaches over to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“So you said your father destroyed your drum set…” Roger mumbled softly. “Why?”

_Why does he want to know so badly anyway?_

Reluctantly, I answer him.

“He was in one of his moods. All...drugged up on heroine. I always tried avoiding him during those moments and usually played with my drum set in the garage. But...something got knocked over...and he...he just lost his temper.” I recall. “It wasn’t even that big of a deal, it was just some old light bulb that fell to the floor. I told him, I’d clean it up. He just...wouldn’t _listen_. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed one of his tools and started beating the shit out of my drums until it was all smashed to hell.”

I feel a soft touch of my hand, and glance down to see Roger lacing his fingers with mine. His eyes shimmer with tears, although I can’t figure out what has him upset. I remember him mentioning once how his mother and father split up when both his sister and himself were younger, but he downplayed it as if it weren’t a big deal. Maybe Roger had some more issues with his family than I initially assumed.

“Did your dad ever hit you?” Roger barely uttered.

I find myself almost hypnotized and rooted to the spot underneath Roger’s stare. I don’t even know why I answer instead of just stopping this depressing-as-all-hell conversation then and there.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Y’know it’s funny but…”

I pause, letting out a dry chuckle from the sheer irony of it all.

“I wanted to hate him, and...for some reason...I never  _could_. He’d have these moments of- -of clarity. And he almost looked like a kicked puppy. Then he’d apologize and go buy me something. It was like seeing a glimpse of the old him before my ma died. But that was how I got my first guitar.” I confessed.

_I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that before._

“So this scar over here...is it from him, then?” Roger hesitantly asked.

I feel a light touch to my upper arm, to a scar that had mostly faded over the years. It honestly wasn’t all that noticeable unless someone looked closely enough. I feel goosebumps travel up and down from the scar itself, as if Roger’s touch sent a zap through my arm. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I hesitate to answer the blonde.

“Well, I mean- -it’s just- -”

When Roger presses lightly on it, I let out a gasp before just simply nodding in reply. Roger looks completely entranced as his fingers move along my skin. Faster than I can comprehend, Roger’s hand moves until it rests along my cheek almost as if I’m something delicate and fragile. Roger now donned a serious expression, while my eyes flicker towards him in confusion.

“R- -Roger?” I stuttered.

At first, it doesn’t even register because of how dazed I am from the marijuana, but his face seems to inch towards mine. There’s something in Roger’s eyes that has me frozen in my spot, but I can’t explain what it is. Carefully, he leans over, pressing his lips to my ear.

“ _I’ll make it better, baby girl. Make sure no one ever hurts you again._ ” He gently husks out.

_Yeah, okay. This is the last time I get high with Roger alone. Calling it now. He should be considered illegal to women everywhere. FUCK._

Eyes widening, I sit up in my bed and nearly hit Roger with my own head as I move abruptly. Roger looks up at me, biting down hard on his bottom lip. The fact that I’d nearly let Roger kiss me has my head spinning, and my surroundings move in a fast blur as my anxiety grows. I resist the urge to throw up and swallow the bile down while my heart pounds rapidly.

Roger is quick to sit up with me, holding my face in my hands while looking at me worriedly. I’m practically shaking with guilt, and Roger knows all too well why that is. Immediately, I felt stupid for thinking I could have a friend to confide in and try to fight against Roger’s touch. Roger blinks away more tears, and resist the need to shout at him no matter how much I want to.

_I always hated yelling..._

“Hey, look at me.” Roger slurred. “I am **_so_ ** sorry. I didn’ mean...I jus’...I got caught up in this...in _you_. You don’ need to tell Bri. Nothin’ happened.”

_Nothing happened?! Do you fucking hear yourself, Roger?!_

Roger genuinely looks upset as a lone tear escapes and trails down his cheek. Guilt gnaws at my stomach at having been the cause of that kicked puppy-dog look on his face. That is, until I remember the fact that _he_ was the one that almost kissed me.

“You can’t just do that Rog.” I blurt out.

“I know. I _know_ .” Roger nods frantically. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. You’re right. Just...just don’t hate me, you’re my _friend…_ Nothin’ technically happened. You were right to stop me.”

Realizing how genuine Roger’s apology is, I begin to relax in his arms. Maybe I _had_ been overthinking things. These feelings that we were experiencing were a result of the drugs we’d just had. Nothing more and nothing less than that. Our friendship was fine, nothing had technically happened.

“Nothing has to change, baby girl. It was just...the heat of the moment.” Roger told me. “We just need to ride this out. Let’s go watch that stupid cartoon, yeah? Forget this happened.”

Slowly, I nod in agreement, allowing him to grasp my hand as we move back to the living room. Minutes after turning back on the television, Roger wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. I can hear his mumbled strings of apologies, as well as the kiss on top of my head. I fall asleep within minutes of watching the ending of the Aristocats.

* * *

_June 1970..._

****

“This is bollocks, Bri! All we need to do is replace Tim! Then we can push forward!” Roger yelled.

_It’s probably not the right time to mention that I still keep in touch with Tim..._

“Roger, you have to think about this! Not only are we short of a lead singer, but we also need a bass player as well. This isn’t going to be as easy as it looks!” Brian objected.

“I- -I mean…” Roger faltered. “Jack. What do you think?”

Hearing my name, I perk up and stop reading my book. Roger and Brian both give me a small and annoyed look.

“Were you even listening?” Roger scoffed.

“I was.” I assured them. “I _was!_ ”

I put down my book and smile at Roger and Brian.

“Guys, I know this is frustrating, but you can’t call it quits just because of a minor setback.” I said.

“I appreciate your optimism, luv. Truly, I do. But I’m just thinking realistically.” Brian sighed.

“Well with an mindset like that, we _won’t_ get anywhere.” I chuckled.

Roger comes in fully heated, and finally explodes with anger. Whether or not it’s directed at me, I’m not certain. I do know, however, is that it pisses me off when Roger looks down at me like I’m suddenly _beneath_ him.

“And where the hell do you suppose we start then? Y’know. Since you were **clearly** apart of the conversation before. I don’t hear you coming up with any ideas.” Roger snapped.

My smile fades instantly, and I fold my arms before cocking my hip to the side.

“Well you can start by taking that shitty attitude of yours and shoving it up your ass.” I glared at him.

Brian looks at the two of us with wide eyes, a giggle slipping from his lips. As soon as Roger turns to glare at him, and Brian is quick to cover it up with a fake cough. Roger redirects his attention to me and storms over until we’re chest to chest. I half expect a brawl to break out with the way Roger’s nostrils flare angrily.

I can’t help but tense up as a wave of nostalgia hits me, and not the good kind. In my mind, flashes of my teen years become more prominent. I can vividly picture that same pissed off look on my father’s face, and recall what came after. I can practically feel myself shaking before I know it. Though I try to remain calm and focused as I look at Roger with the most neutral expression I can muster.

“I know a singer.” I told him. “We can jus- -

“Who? You? No offense, _baby girl_ , but I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you sing without backup.” Roger mocks me.

_Ouch. That stung._

“Okay, _wow_. First, you can fuck on off. I wasn’t referring to me, but that was unnecessary and you know it..” My voice wavers.

Roger’s expression falters, and for a brief moment, I see guilt flash in his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Rog. _Apologize_.” Brian mutters.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Roger grumbled bitterly.

_What did I do to warrant his anger? Absolutely nothing. What an asshole._

I get fed up with Roger’s attitude, and shove him away from me. He couldn’t have sounded anymore sarcastic in his apology. Was it because he assumed I wasn’t listening to the conversation, or was he angry at me for something else? While my hands clench continuously at my sides, I find myself craving one of my joints something fierce.

_I need to get out of here before either of us says anything regrettable._

“I understand your frustration, Rog. I’m pissed at Tim too! If it weren’t for him, I don’t know if I would have joined Smile!” I snapped. “I felt like as soon as I joined the band, things fell apart! You have no idea how upset I am about all this!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have joined then!” Roger shouted.

_Okay, fine. You want to act like a class-act douche, Rog? Then I’ll fucking fight you._

I was normally laid back and relaxed as a person. I never usually resorted to shouting because I found it unnecessary. I could tell that they were nervous, or Brian was at least. Brian sensed the change in my behavior, before he separates Roger and I by moving in between us. My body shakes with sheer rage.

“Jack, luv. Calm down- -” Brian started.

“No! You wanna fucking fight?! I’ll show you what a woman from Brooklyn can do!” I growled angrily.

Roger opens his arms almost invitingly as if daring me to make a move. I begin rolling up the sleeves of my jumper, and pull my hair up.

 _I should walk away. I should just walk away. But I’m so_ **_mad_ ** _at him._

“Oh dear.” Brian mumbled nervously. “Um...Roger? You should step out for a bit before she follows through. She doesn’t seem to be joking.”

Roger let’s out a laugh, looking far from intimidated of me as he turns to Brian.

“What the hell is _she_ gonna do- -? **_AH!_ **”

Roger _yelps_ as I tackle him to the floor, just as Brian jumps to the side to avoid being hit. I throw punch after punch, trying not to go all out, but making sure to teach Roger that I’m not one to be fucked around with. I can feel tears falling down my cheeks as the emotional dams burst. I maneuver myself around Roger, ignoring his cries and shouts for help, as I get him into a headlock that my older brother had taught me how to do when we were younger.

The visions of my father’s rage come forefront in my mind. I can’t help but hurt Roger as if I’m getting revenge for myself. In my mind, I know that it’s wrong, but I’m too emotional and angry to stop. Roger keeps shouting profanities at me, and I can’t help but ignore them as I let loose the reigns of my anger that I was normally able to control.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!”

Suddenly, the whole room is silent as Freddie walks in. His eyes widened with worry and concern as he looks upon the scene unfolding before him.

“ _Hey Fred._ ” Roger choked out.

“Jacqueline. If you could release Roger before he bloody well passes out.” Fred demanded.

“ _Tap out...tapouttapout!_ ” Roger rasps.

Roger taps lightly on the arm that’s still looped around his neck, as if to say he gives up. I finally pull away, getting up and leaving Roger a gasping mess on the floor. As Brian helps Roger from the floor, Freddie pulls me away, noticing how I’m practically a sobbing mess. I craved alcohol something fierce right about now.

“Now, Jack...I need you to tell me why you were six seconds away from murdering our dear drummer boy.” Fred muttered worriedly.

“...he started it.” I mumbled childishly.

Freddie glances to Roger and Brian for help, clearly wanting answers.

“Roger uh...pushed her buttons _way_ too far, I’d say.” Brian supplied.

Freddie closes his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nostrils before turning to glare at Roger.

“Roger. What did you do?” Fred questioned.

“I uh...said some things…” He started.

Roger glances at me with fearful eyes as he gently massages his sore throat with one hand.

“Very....bad things…which I _completely_ regret now.” Roger breathes out. “Where the bloody fucking hell did you learn to fight like that by the way? I don’t know whether to be turned on or fucking _terrified_. I’m impressed, baby girl.”

_Wait...is he proud of me or something? The fuck, Roger? I almost just strangled you unconscious._

I scratch at my arm nervously as I will back the urge to run and leave to the nearest bar. Reluctantly, I answer Roger’s stupid question despite still being absolutely pissed at him.

“Well...you either had to be tough in Brooklyn or get mugged.” I spoke softly. “My brother taught me a few things...h- -he was into wrestling. I’m sorry I...I lost my...t- -temper.”

I sniffle quietly and turn away, finally moving to go to my room and lock myself in for the night. Brian is quick to catch me by the wrist, pulling me over towards him to embrace me.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Brian mumbled softly.

Brian rubs my back almost soothingly, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Look. Roger was just talking out of his ass. I think we’re all a little upset about not being able to pursue the band more...Rog was just...angry. We’re _all_ angry.” Brian told me. “You said you knew a singer. Tell us more about it, yeah?”

Reluctantly, I nod, before pointing right at Fred. Fred raises an eyebrow as he points to himself.

“Me?” Fred asked in confusion.

“Freddie...you’re one of the best vocalists I know. And I’m not just saying that. He’s really good, guys. It’s...it’s amazing. He has so much potential.” I said.

Freddie, dare I say, blushes from the sudden attention. Brian and Roger nod at me, as if taking my words into consideration before looking to Freddie.

“I didn’t know you sang, Fred.” Roger muttered. “You never...mentioned it. I just thought you wrote songs with Jack or something.”

“It’s a hobby of mine. But...you know what? Jackie, dear. I think you’re onto something.” Freddie smiled.

Freddie snaps his fingers, as if he had an _AHA!_ moment. That one moment of true clarity, a sudden _epiphany_. My eyes widen slightly as Freddie plants his hands on my shoulders and practically pulls me away from Brian.

“You know of my luck with previous bands, Jack...and you guys...you guys are good. _More_ than good.” Freddie started.

Roger scoffs and folds his arms together.

“And what? You’re gonna join us and things will be peachy again? You guys are forgetting that we need a bass player as well. Unless someone has experience with the bass that no one has told us about….we’re short of luck.” Roger mentioned.

“So we hold auditions for a bass player.” Freddie supplied easily. “Look, _you’re_ all extremely talented. _I’m_ extremely talented. We could make _sweet fucking_ music together. We could become bloody rock stars. **_Legends_ ** . We don’t have anything to lose by _trying_.”

All of stare at Freddie in awe as we see his true colors come out slowly. Freddie’s words resonated deeply in all of us. Freddie was absolutely correct in his statement, that none of us had _anything_ left to lose at this point for just trying. Plus, with Tim no longer in charge, we could expand our horizons with wherever our music would take us. The possibilities seemed endless and also a _reality_ with Freddie _leading_ us properly. Freddie looked absolutely breathtaking in this very moment, almost as if he was glowing.

_Fred was so inspiring...I wish I had that kind of charisma._

Pulling away from me, Fred begins pacing, looking deep into thought. I knew that he was deadly serious about all of this though. I think _all_ of us could tell that he was serious about pursuing this. Brian walks back over to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as if to steady himself. Even Roger, the normally hotheaded and easily annoyed man, seems to like where this conversation is going and looks a bit _excited_.

“As crazy as you sound, mate...I think I like where this is going.” Roger nods. “So what do you suggest then?”

All of us look to Fred as if he has all the answers and wait expectantly. Fred clears his throat and brushes his hair back from his face. For the next minute, it’s nothing but absolute silence as Fred looks deep into thought.

“Well first things first…” He hums thoughtfully.

Freddie perks up as many ideas strike him.

“We need to change your set up. No more standing around on stage. We can do costume designs, new song selection. We need to change the name of the band. New fresh start. We can make this band _truly_ ours. We **can** do this.” Freddie grins excitedly.

Brian nods in agreement and relaxes against me.

“Yeah, alright. So...new song arrangements. And a new style…” Brian muttered. “And...and we’re _serious_ about this then?”

“I sure as hell am.” Fred nods in confirmation. “Roger?”

“You know what? Fuck it. I’m in.” Roger grinned. “Bri?”

Brian cracks a small smile before he also nods in agreement.

“Jack, dear?” Freddie glances at me.

I feel myself shaking as all eyes are on me. I want to say yes more than anything, but then, those nagging doubts creep up into the back of my mind. Those doubts of another guitarist being _unnecessary_. Those hurtful words of a woman being in a band of men.

Those snide jabs that Roger had made about not contributing enough or that I would have been better off not joining Smile. Those moments where my father made me feel inferior and insignificant as a person. What if they were all true? Maybe I just wasn’t good enough.

“I uh….I need to go lie down real quick.” I breathed out.

I move towards my room again, blinking away tears before I’m once again being grabbed at to which I tense up in response. To my shock, it’s Roger that stops me this time. He has the most pained expression on his face, much similar to the day he’d almost kissed me, as if he was shot in the heart. He pulls me into a hug, and much similar to Brian, presses kisses to my head lovingly.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t shut us out. I’m _sorry_ , baby girl. I never meant...never meant to _hurt_ you.” Roger mumbled against me.

“It’s okay- -”

“No, it’s not. I said some very hurtful things. And I didn’t mean any of them. Bri was right...I was just….upset.” Roger told me.

Roger pulls back, wiping my tears away with his thumbs as he holds my face in his hands.

“Say yes. Don’t leave.” He nearly whispered.

There’s something within me that makes me comply, and I nod.

* * *

 

_October 1970_

****

_“B- -Brian...please.” I whimpered._

_Brian groans lowly in the back of his throat, as he slips his length back into me. My toes curl when he finally starts to thrust, driving his cock further into me as he gradually moves faster. I let out a cry when his long fingers slip in between us, finding my clit and rubbing at it roughly with every roll of his hips. I’m thrown by surprise when Brian suddenly stops moving, before I’m being flipped over to my stomach._

My eyes widen when I wake up and sit in bed. A thin sheet of sweat along my skin. I shift uncomfortably as I feel the stickiness in my underwear.

 _Fucking...really? I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a_ **_teenager_ ** _...this is just embarrassing._

I sigh and leave my bed, before making my way to clean myself up in the bathroom down the hall. By the time I’m done, I move to get some coffee in the kitchen. Freddie eats a slice of toast with his coffee, casually reading a fashion magazine as I pull up in the chair next to him. I ignore my coffee for a few minutes as my head falls to the table with a thud. I feel mentally and physically drained, and don’t even understand **_why_ **.

_I even went to bed early last night. Early for me anyway. Like...10:30...I think. Can’t even remember..._

“Well shit. You look positively ravished this morning dear.”

I glance up at Freddie’s smug expression, and merely groan in response.

“I haven’t had sex…” I chuckle dryly.

It was meant to come across as a joke, but hearing Freddie cough loudly and awkwardly, I noticed that I now had his full attention. Freddie looks almost scandalized as he puts his magazine down and turns to me. Freddie sits tall in his seat as he places a hand on my arm. It reminded me of how parental my sister was at times.

_I really miss her..._

“Wait. You haven’t had sex? With Brian? And you two have been dating for _how long?_ ”

I rub my hand over my face tiredly and glance at Fred with a blank expression.

“Oh no, Fred. You don’t get it. I haven’t had sex since before I fucking moved here. It’s been three years now?” I clarified.

Freddie’s eyes widened almost humorously, as if I’d told him the _worst_ news possible.

“Oh dear sweet lord in heaven.” Freddie barely uttered.

“What’s going on?” Roger yawned.

Grabbing a cup from the cabinet, Roger pours himself a cup of coffee as well. I glare at Freddie as a warning to shut up, but it’s way beyond too late as soon as his mouth opens.

“My poor Brooklyn Jaybird hasn’t been shagged in over three years. How are you still _living?_ ” Freddie’s voice raised.

Roger chokes on his drink and looks at me in complete surprise.

“You mean, you and Brian haven’t even- -” He rasps out.

“Okay _wow._ ” I rolled my eyes. “No. Brian and I haven’t slept together yet. It’s only been six months since we started dating alright? It’s not a big deal- -”

“ _Not a big deal?_ ” Freddie echoes dramatically. “Well call him the fuck up! Go on a date tonight and shag him. Lord only knows, he needs it just as much as you do.”

“Seriously. That’s my _boyfriend_ you’re talking about.” I nearly shout.

“Jack, you look absolutely _frustrated_.” Freddie whined. “You need this and desperately! You look positively mad, darling!”

Before I can say another word to Fred, like suggesting to drop the subject entirely, Roger huffs out a laugh and gives me a very obvious wink. I can already feel myself become embarrassed and flustered over this entire ordeal. A tremendous amount of guilt washes over me when I’m reminded of that specific day Roger and I almost kissed once again. The day that practically haunted me.

_I can’t believe he’s mocking me..._

“Shit. If you weren’t with Bri, I’d offer you up a blowie right now. I almost feel bad.” Roger teased.

_WOW. What the fuck Roger?_

At this, Freddie and I look at Roger with wide eyes. I was wondering where the hell this was coming from. Despite his nonchalant tone, I could sense a bit of venom and hostility towards _me_ specifically. I couldn’t help but be disappointed and angry at Roger all at the same time.

Roger was one of my closest friends since we’d gotten to know each other, but there was something obviously straining our friendship. This unspoken tension between us. I could never act on it though, not while I was with Brian. At this point, I was _happy_ with my relationship with Brian, and I wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize it. Certainly not over Roger.

“Why would you fucking say something like that? Even if I _were_ single, I wouldn’t take your stupid offer out of fucking pity. I don’t need sex to be satisfied unlike some people.” I growled. “And don’t talk to me that way again!”

I get up from the table, not looking back as I slam my door shut behind me.

“Roger, dear. Why do you insist on pissing her off?” Freddie asked.

“It was a joke! Come on, Fred!” Roger chuckled.

“If you say so.” Freddie mutters sarcastically.

“And what the hell are you insinuating, mate?” Roger scoffed.

“Oh come on Blondie, I think you and I both know what I meant.” Freddie replied. “You’re not dumb by any means, I think you can put two and two together.”

At Roger’s silence, Freddie lets out a sigh of frustration. Fred glances between Roger and my shut bedroom door and lowers his voice.

“For fucks sake, you fancy her!” He hissed quietly at him.

“I...I do _not-_ -” Roger started.

Freddie uses his magazine and smacks Roger’s arm with it.

“Despite trying to be your _friend_ , you tease her almost relentlessly, you call her fucking **_baby girl._ ** You sometimes flirt with her _in front of_ Brian. You fight with her just to get a rise out of the poor dear!” Freddie glared at him. “You need to buck the fuck up and tell her or leave her alone, Rog. Because I refuse to let you hurt either Brian or Jacqueline.”

Roger appears almost shell shocked at Freddie’s outburst, but he shakes his head in denial.

“She’s with Bri. I’d never do that to him- -” Roger muttered.

“You say that, but that hasn’t stopped you _clearly_. Because unlike your other conquests, Jacqueline is now something you **can’t** have or touch. And that _bothers_ you since you’ve gotten to know her better. You’re absolutely taken by her, and I’m fairly certain it’s mutual. I know about that little ‘almost-kiss’ in her bedroom.” Freddie quipped.

Immediately, Roger is on the edge of his seat as he stares at the older man with wide eyes.

“H- -how?” Roger stammered.

Freddie blushes in embarrassment, but rather than back out like he should, he keeps going.

“She told me about it the last time she got herself plastered at the pub. She was upset and confused. You have her so worked up and she doesn’t know what to do because she’s not able to understand what’s going on.” Freddie admitted. “So again, either tell her how you feel, or leave her alone before things get really messy. But don’t fuck it up for Brian. He _doesn’t_ deserve that.”

Roger doesn’t even bother to deny it and gives his friend a sincere, and even an apologetic, look.

“I didn’t even realize...shit...I really dug myself into a hole here, haven’t I?”

Freddie places his hand on top Roger’s in comfort.

“Then don’t fuck it up.” Fred mumbled softly.

* * *

I try to forget about this morning with Fred and Roger as I power through work at Biba. Mary knows something is off about me immediately when I barely say a word to her. The poor girl seems almost afraid as I let my anger stew for half of my shift. However, nine hours from morning to evening at Biba seems to do the trick and distracts me even if it's momentarily.

Then, when I recognize Roger’s van outside of the store, the anger comes rushing back in waves. After I clock out and give my goodbyes to Mary, I storm over to van, only to pause in shock. In the driver’s seat is Brian, not at all who I expected to be here to pick me up. I gently knock on the passenger side window, to which Brian responds by unlocking the door to let me in.

“So how was work- -”

I impulsively kiss Brian and tug on his shirt to pull him as close as I can get before slipping my tongue into his mouth expertly. Brian’s surprise fades as soon as he falls into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he slides his lips along mine. I gently bite down on his bottom lip, before soothing it over with a swipe of my tongue. When my hand moves up to his hair, I firmly but gently tug at the curly strands, causing his lips to break from mine as a moan unabashedly slips from his mouth.

“Holy goddamn shit.” Brian breathed out. “Did you really miss me that much, sweetheart?”

I pull back and try to regain my composure, but not before taking in Brian’s appearance. Flushed in the face, lips slightly swollen from kissing, that dazed expression in his eyes, his heavy panting. I can’t help but grow addicted to it. I need more.

“Sorry about that.” I muttered. “Just...I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure how long I can hold out.”

“H- -hold out?” Brian stammered.

“Okay. Let me be as blunt as possible, Bri. I think we’re at that stage in our relationship where we can go _way_ past second base...I’ve been horny as all fucking hell, and at first I was fine with waiting for you- -” I frantically ramble. “But I need you to **fuck** me, and it needs to be _soon_ . I’m like losing my damn mind and I have _no_ idea why.”

Brian’s eyes widen almost humorously as I confess this to him, but hearing his breath hitch, I can tell it’s something that’s been on his mind as well. When his eyes dart back down to my lips, he moves fast, kissing me until I can’t breathe. One of his hands moves to cup the back of my head, before he pulls back to mouth at my jawline. I shudder against him as I tilt my head to give him better access, and after one kiss to my pulse, he pulls away.

“I’m not shagging you in front of the Biba shop. So if you can hold out just a little longer, I’ll make it worth your while, yeah?” Brian smiled.

I nearly sigh in relief, but settle instead for an enthusiastic nod and smile. Brian chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair before he puts the car into drive and steers the car out of its parking spot. My mind is racing with excitement, but also with mild anxiety at not wanting to disappoint my boyfriend. Brian seems to share the sentiment if the tight grip on the steering wheel is any kind of indication. I’m brought out of my thoughts as one of his hands moves to rest on top of mine.

_Oh man...this is it. God damn finally. I just hope I don’t fuck this up somehow..._

“So, how was work?” Brian asked again.

“It was...fine. I just...I have a lot of pent up anger from this morning. I need you...” I whine softly.

His breath stutters once again, eyes flickering back towards me and the road.

“And just what has you so worked up, sweetheart?” He managed.

“You.” I murmured. “I haven’t had sex for three years, but suddenly, I have the strongest urge to just because it’s you.”

_It’s not a complete lie. Brian has this effect on me...or maybe it’s something else. I’ll think about it later._

Brian glances over at me briefly, his lips parted as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Jesus, Jackie...you can’t just say stuff like that.” Brian muttered. “Believe me, I’ve wanted this since New Year’s Eve, but I wanted to wait for you. Call me old fashioned but...I had this planned out. Take you on a romantic dinner, then...maybe stargaze with you and...”

 _Oh god damn, Bri. You are just the fucking sweetest man and you look_ **_incredibly_ ** _huggable right now._

“We can still do that.” I assured him.

“You really can’t wait, can you? You look ready to goddamn explode.” Brian chuckled.

“...yeah.” I shrugged. “What can I say? Crazy American woman and all that.”

I perk up at the gentle touch of Brian’s fingers running along on my thigh, before travelling back slowly with the softness of my skirt dragging up with a hook of his thumb. I fail to hold back a gasp as his long and deft fingers gently curve and brush along the surface of my underwear. Brian’s eyes remain on the road, looking deep into concentration as he gives a gentle flick of the wrist, fingers expertly delving underneath my underwear. I moan loudly just as his fingers trace along my vaginal lips, before he maneuvers a finger into my hole. As a surge of pleasure wracks through my body, my hand wraps around his wrist and instinctively hump back down. His index finger slides along my clit slowly, almost tortuously.

_Holy god damn shit that felt amazing. Do it again._

I let out a whimper instead and grind into his hand. Though Brian seems to quickly get the message though and rolls his wrist to add more friction in the most delicious of ways. I toss my head to the side, -a pleased moan escaping my mouth.

_Close enough. That works just as well._

Before long, I finally take notice in our surroundings, and realize that Brian’s parked the car in the garage parking lot to our apartment complex. I let out a soft squeak of surprise as his fingers thrust into me, before his hand slips out just as abruptly. His hand pulls away entirely as he reaches from underneath him, grabbing his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans before pulling out a condom. Then, he unbuckles his pants, and has his jeans shimmied down halfway down his thighs in under a minute.

“You’ve been holding out on me huh?” I breathed out.

Brian almost falters in his movements upon hearing me speak up, as my hand darts over to grasp his erection. His eyes widen before he gives a light thrust into my hand, letting out an embarrassingly loud groan. I smirk as I maneuver myself over and bend down. My tongue darts out while I lick the tip, then the entire length, before my mouth engulfs his cock entirely. Brian holds a hand on the top of my head, guiding me to move at the pace he wants me to go. I risk the limits of my gag reflex as I take more into my mouth, until the head hits the back of my throat. 

“ _Fucking hell. J- -Jack. Do that again, luv._ ” He rasps.

I repeat the action a couple more times and work the shaft with one hand, as the other trails down to touch myself. It provides little relief for me, as my desire for Brian grows. One tug at my hair has me moan around his length in surprise, which nearly has him keening. 

“Fuck…. _fuck_...need you now.” Brian mutters desperately.

Seconds after I pull back, he’s biting open the wrapper of the condom off before rolling the latex down his prick. He moans lightly at the sensation of the rubber along his length before he pats his lap invitingly like I’m going on an amusement ride. I giggle as I’m quick to maneuver myself into Brian’s lap and straddle him. Crashing our lips together, I pump his length lightly before guiding him to my entrance. As I work my way down, our mouths drop open in breathy moans. 

_Oh that hit the spot._

I whimper almost pathetically into his mouth before driving myself down onto his cock completely. Brian’s mouth separates from mine as he throws his head back and lets out a quiet groan from the back of his throat. I pepper as many kisses as I can along his neck before sucking harshly below his jawline. Brian is threading his fingers into my hair again and pulls my head back before biting harshly on my bottom lip. My back arches when Brian hits a spot deep inside me that has me nearly sob, before he begins to slow his hips. 

_What are you doing? Why did you stop?_

“F- -fuck... _Bri_ …” I mewled.

“It’s okay...I’ve got you. Just raise your hips for me a little.” Brian instructed. "That's it darling."

My hands slip around his shoulders, as Brian keeps his steady grip along my hips. Slipping one hand between us again, Brian’s long and deft fingers pluck my clit gently as if I’m his Red Special, with such practiced precision as he teased the head of his cock along my wet slit. Then, he snaps his hips upward, and I let out a pleasured sob as I feel my toes curl. Brian crashes his lips to mine, his soft lips dominating mine as his tongue slips inside. The smell of sex fills the small space of the van, and the sounds of our skin slapping together fuels my arousal.

"Good girl." Brian praised.

My eyes roll back as the feeling of ecstasy intensifies, hot and boiling through my veins. I can already feel the pressure building up in my core with every drive of his hips. His dark eyes are trained on me as his hands move to travel up to my breasts before pinching my nipples. 

_Holy shit. This feels fan-fucking-tastic. I’m gonna need a good dicking from you everyday now, Bri. I hope you’re happy._

“F- -faster...faster.” I beg repeatedly. “Harder…”

_Brian don’t you ever fucking stop. Let’s just stay this way forever._

I clench tightly around him and enjoy the stutter of his breath as he drives into me faster. 

“Let go, Jack. Just let go for me, yeah? You can do it, you darling girl.” Brian growled.

_Fuck you’re so hot. Authoritative Bri, fuck yeah. Sign me the fuck up._

"Brian, I'm gonna...g- -gonna..."

_Oh fuck I needed this. Why the hell did we deny this to ourselves, Brian? Fucking fight me._

His calloused finger rubs fast circles into my clit as his thrusts begin to grow sloppier. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you."

Brian's forehead falls to my shoulder.

"Come on, luv. A- -almost there." He encouraged. "Let go for me, yeah? Cum." 

That last command pushes me over the edge, and I begin shaking against him as I feel complete euphoria. Brian helps me ride out my orgasm, his finger pressing to my clit firmly. I continue to bounce on his length, murmuring praises into his ear.

"Let go baby...I need it." I whined softly.

When Brian bites down on my shoulder, his hips stutter, holding me tightly against him as he comes to a stop. 

“That was nice…” I mumble tiredly. “Go team…”

Brian snorts at my comment, muttering something under his breath as he holds me against him. For minutes, we bask in our post-orgasmic glow, as Brian rubs my back soothingly with one hand. Then, he moves his other hand to turn off the car and remove the keys from the ignition. Wordlessly after another minute or so, we remove ourselves from each other and glance at each other with completely blissed out expressions. Slowly, we clean ourselves up with whatever’s in the van before exiting the vehicle and tossing it in the trash bin near the entrance.

“You good, sweetheart? You look ready to keel over.” Brian chuckled.

“So do you.” I smirked.

Walking up to the apartment, I grab Brian’s hand and press a light kiss to his knuckles.

“Thank you for indulging me.” I told him. “I didn’t know how badly I needed that.”

“To be honest, neither did I. So thank you, dear.” Brian smiled at me warmly. “Let’s just make sure not to mention this to Roger, yeah?”

I unlock the apartment with my key and walk in with Brian following me closely behind. I drop my purse to the coffee table tiredly before standing towards the hall that led to my room.

“You wanna cuddle on my bed? I could do with a good cuddle right now.” I yawned.

“I think we should get some food into you before either of us nods off. Did you even eat this morning? I know you like to forget.” Brian raised an eyebrow.

“Probably a good idea, but I’m too tired to give a shit.” I whined.

Brian rolls his eyes playfully at me as he grabs my wrist, leading me into the kitchen.

“So the boys are working yeah?” Brian asked.

Brian pops some bread into the toaster, before turning on the stove and grabbing two tea bags and mugs.

“Yeah. Why?”

“For round two of course.” Brian merely replied.

I glance at Brian with wide eyes as my breath hitches at the suggestion. I give him a firm nod before shakily moving to sit at the kitchen table for our tea and toast.

* * *

_January 1971..._

****

Brian and I finish our duet solo together. It was almost like a mini competition on the stage. Our fingers running along the chords of our instruments expertly. Since Freddie had joined, we were working immensely on changing our sound and experimenting. With some new songs we were working on, we had to practice a lot more together. At times it was exhausting, but knowing what all of this was for in the first place was a huge motivator.

I was more than pleased with the results though, and I could tell from his smile and enthusiasm, that Brian did as well. As Brian and I finish working through our parts in a song I’d written called _Son and Daughter_ , we could hear Freddie applauding us. The song was coming together quite nicely, especially with Freddie’s help. I’m brought out of my thoughts as Freddie comes forward with a bright smile, clapping a firm hand on Brian’s shoulder.

“I think we’ve got that part down, yeah?” Brian asked.

“You guys were good.” Roger nods in agreement. “We’re almost done going through our new set. We’ll be performing in no time.”

After removing the strap from my shoulder, I place the guitar back on its stand nearby before massaging my shoulder. Then I grab my water bottle at the end of the stage and take a swig from it. Immediately, there are negative thoughts nagging at the back of my mind. I let out a deep sigh as I drop my water bottle with my jacket at the end of the stage,

“You guys don’t think my song is trash, do you?” I blurt out.

The three men look at me in surprise, before shaking their heads immediately in response.

“Why do you say that, baby girl?” Roger asks with concern. “It’s good.”

“I thought you two were magnificent!” Freddie complimented. “You’ve gotten better than the last time we met for rehearsals! You know how hard it is to please little ol’ me.”

“That’s an understatement.” Roger smirked.

Freddie playfully smacks Roger’s arm, earning a whine from the blonde as he turns towards me.

“It’s your song, darling. What do you think needs to be changed?” Freddie raised an eyebrow.

“I just feel like it’s lacking something. Or maybe it’s because we don’t have a bass player yet…” I mused aloud. “The last two were...I wouldn’t say terrible, but they weren’t good either. They were nice guys though…”

“We’ll be holding auditions soon, luv. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Brian assured me. “Is there anything _else_ that’s bothering you?”

“Actually, yeah. The vocals.” I nodded thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong with the vocals?” Freddie pouted. “I was bloody fantastic, bitch.”

“I’m not talking about you Fred.” I chuckled.

_It needs more...originally it’s just Freddie with a touch of Brian and I in the background..._

I snap my fingers repeatedly as I pace around the stage. When I finally stop, I point to Roger, and have him confused in no time at all.

“Me?” Roger scoffs lightly. “What about me?”

“I know you’ve got a lovely falsetto you’ve been holding back.” I smirked. “And I want it in my song.”

It’s an instant reaction, when I see Freddie jump and shout happily.

“YES! That’s what’s missing in my Seven Seas of Rhye!” Freddie lit up. “Oh Roger, you need to give us a little demonstration! I know you’re very capable dear!”

“You guys are being ridiculous! I don’t have a- -a _falsetto!_ ” Roger blushed.

“I don’t know why you’re being so shy about it. It’s fucking badass!” I told him.

Roger huffs and folds his arms. He looks like he’s actually considering it. Upon seeing the look of excitement on Freddie and I, Roger finally gives in.

“Alright, I’ll give it a go. Get in your places, yeah?” Roger nodded.  
We move quickly as Roger sits down behind his drum set. When we practice _Son and Daughter_ , we proceed as we normally do. Only this time, Roger adds a bit of his own touch with his powerful voice. His falsetto mixes in to the beginning vocals _beautifully_. I’m absolutely amazed that he does it so flawlessly while he drums at the same time.

With everything we’d rehearsed compiling together, I find myself thrilled with the results. The song ends fairly shortly, going for approximately three minutes. By the time we finished though,

I’m placing my guitar back down and run up to Roger as he comes out from behind his drums. I squeal happily as I tackle Roger into a hug, laughing as he twirls me in a circle upon catching me.

“That was fucking awesome, Rog!” I cheered.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Roger smiled smugly.

“We’re going to need that for all of our songs! Just saying!” Freddie added.

“Nice job, Rog.” Brian commented happily. “We’ll be performing in no time, guys!”

* * *

_February 1971..._

****

Having a new song selection that we’d all rehearsed together, we felt that we were finally ready for live performances. We’d gone through many bass players, seven to be more exact, but hadn’t found one that quite fit in with us. There was either someone that was really good but had a shit personality, or a great personality but was a shit bass player. To say that Fred was becoming frustrated over this issue was an understatement.

To be honest, it was a struggle for all of us to find _the perfect_ bass player right and fit for Queen. So, when Brian is asking me to join him and Roger at a disco joint one day, I can’t help but be confused. At first, I thought Brian wanted to just venture out and go explore new places to hang out other than our preferred pub only two blocks from our apartment. That’s when Brian finally relents underneath Roger’s scrutinizing questions, telling him that someone had reached out to him over a bass player of interest. Apprehensive but excited all at once, Roger and I finally lay off of Brian and follow him willingly to this disco establishment.

While I’m not impressed with disco, I admit that I have a small appreciation for it. As _My Sweet Lord_ by Georgie Harrison echoes throughout the entire room from the loudspeakers, I can’t help but dance along to the music. I stop by the bar as my eyes follow Brian and Roger to the booth they choose to sit at before ordering my drink. I dance my way over to the boys with my drink in hand while Roger looks at me in amusement. As I mouth the words of the song, Roger shakes his head as he cracks a smile. I give Brian a playful wink as I down my drink in one gulp, before sitting on his lap as the warmth of the alcohol settles in my stomach.

“Loosen up, Bri.” I smiled. “I have a good feeling about this one.”

“You haven’t even met him yet.” Brian chuckled.

“Call me optimistic, but I think if we’re meeting him in a joint like this...that he’s got a good sense of rhythm. Which is a sign of a good bass player!” I explained.

At my logic, Brian nods in understanding.

“You don’t know that.” Roger objects. “He could be a bloody deaf tone idiot- -”

“Such a downer.” I laughed. “Relax, Rog. You’ll live longer.”

“You’re telling _me_ to relax?” Roger scoffed. “That’s bloody rich coming from little miss chastity- -.”

_Oh if only you knew, Rog._

“Oh fuck off with that bullshit.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get all pissy with me over nothing.”

“ _Little miss chastity?_ ” Brian raised an eyebrow. “Do I really want to know?”

“Oh he’s making fun of the fact that I’m not a whore like him.” I teased.

“And because I enjoy a good shag, that makes me a whore?” Roger smirked.

Before I can say anything else, Brian pinches my side as a warning. His face looks flushed as his lips graze my ear.

“Behave yourself, dear.” Brian lowers his voice.

I can’t help but freeze when his fingertips gently run along the inside of my arm. It is now apparent that Brian is actually _flirting_ with me in public, in front of Roger, which is a rarity in itself. I find myself enjoying his attention a little too much. I lean back into Brian, before turning to press a light kiss to his lips.

“Sorry, babe.” I breathed out.

_Wow. I have never referred to someone as babe before, hopefully Brian doesn’t hate it._

Brian shudders against me, and returns the kiss with a low groan.

“Are you two quite finished?” Roger chuckled. “Or do you need a moment in the club bathroom?”

_At this point, I’m awfully tempted to say ‘fuck you’ to romance and just fuck Brian anywhere._

I pull back and stare down at Brian with a lustful gaze. My face burns with embarrassment from Roger’s comment, so with much hesitance, I get off of Brian’s lap and stand up.

“I’m gonna fetch another drink. You two want anything?” I ask politely.

“I’ll have a beer, thank you.” Brian smiled warmly.

“Whiskey for me, baby girl.” Roger winked.

_He seriously needs to stop calling me that._

I merely nod before walking away towards the bar. I sigh as I brush my hair back, trying to relax as I bob my head to the disco music. I try to distract myself from my eagerness of having a new bass player, and pray that he’s better than the previous ones we’ve had. I’m brought out of my thoughts when I feel a gentle tap to my shoulder, and see a man holding my own wallet out to me.

“You dropped this, miss.”

I smile warmly and take back my wallet, before ordering three drinks from the bartender and paying him. I wait for the bartender and place my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans again. Turning back towards the young man, I take in his long brown hair and green eyes. His demeanor is much similar to Brian, a bit on the timid and shy side with just a touch of something mischievous like Roger and Freddie.

“Thank you so much. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed my wallet was gone.” I told him.

His eyes widen just a slight fraction, as he looks at me in surprise. My smile falters a bit at this, wondering if I somehow made him uncomfortable.

“Did I...say something wrong?” I raised an questioning eyebrow.

Immediately, he shakes his head before cracking a friendly smile.

“S- -sorry. Just...you’re _American_.” He points out. “I wasn’t expecting that, forgive me.”

I chuckle a bit at this and shake my head amusedly.

“And you _Brits_ all act like I’m some unicorn or something.” I teased.

He returns the sentiment and laughs it off, tucking his hair behind his ear before holding out his hand.

“Let me start over...I’m John Deacon.”

_John...why is that name so familiar? Fuck, it’s on the tip of my tongue…_

“Jacqueline Walker.” I smirked. “Wait a minute... _you’re_ the one we’re waiting for aren’t we?”

I lean forward, John’s smile faltering as he expresses his confusion.

“P- -pardon me?” John stuttered.

“You’re the bass player right?” I clarified.

John sighs in relief, and nods almost too enthusiastically in response.

“Yes. I’m here to see Brian. You know him then?” John asked.

As the bartender hands me all of my drinks on a tray, I stand up taller and give John a gesture to follow me.

“Well let’s get moving then. Bri and Roger are really looking forward to meeting you.” I informed him.

John follows and upon recognizing Brian in the distance, he waves at him. Brian and Roger both perk up when seeing the two of us, and I place the tray down before grabbing my drink. I move take a seat with Brian as he slides into the booth.

“Take a seat, John. We don’t bite.” I joked.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Are you...their assistant or…?” John trails off in confusion.

Roger’s eyes widen at John’s words before he throws his head back in laughter. I can see Brian kick his leg from underneath the table. Roger’s laughter ceases as he gives his friend a small glare.

“Jacqueline’s our other guitarist.” Brian spoke up.

John’s eyes widen before he hides his face in his hand. His head shakes as he grumbles something under his breath.

“I...I am _so_ sorry.” John mutters uncomfortably. “I...I think I recognize you now from your show.”

_He’s been to one of our shows before? Brian failed to mention that._

I gently grab John’s arm, pulling it down to look him in the eyes. I give him a light smile before gently patting his arm in reassurance.

“It’s alright. It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last.” I said.

_Yup._

I casually sip on my drink and trying to make this one last the entire conversation after getting more comfortable in my spot. Within minutes of conversation, John, Brian, and Roger get along fairly quickly. Despite my silence, I give John my full attention and listen carefully. Only at nineteen years old, the youngest bass player I had seen thus far, John was attending Chelsea College for electronics.

I found myself more impressed when he mentions his experience in other failed bands, and it reminds me a little bit of Freddie’s hardships. Although, I’m nearly floored from the fact that this nineteen year old boy had built his own _amplifier_ for his bass. John was truly one of a kind, and as they conversed more, I also found myself intrigued by how _mature_ he was for someone at such a young age. Deep down in my gut, I had a _really_ good feeling about John Deacon and maybe it was because he was so **different** from all of us that made him stand out.

“Cat got your tongue, luv?” Roger smirked. “You’ve barely said a word this entire time.”

John glances at me nervously once again, probably afraid to say the wrong thing to me.

“Well what do you want me to say?” I chuckled softly.

“For starters, what’s your take on _Mr. John Richard Deacon?_ ” Roger playfully asked.

I lean forward on my arms and look closely at the nineteen year old, as if examining for any flaws. John shifts uncomfortably in his chair and averts his gaze. Roger chuckles at this, before gently nudging me with his foot from underneath the table. I finally pull back, donning a large grin as I give John a playful wink to lighten the mood.

_Oh he’s adorable._

“I’ve got a good feeling about you so far, Johnnie. Really smart, polite…..I think you’ll fit in just fine. But the more important matter is...can you _actually_ play the bass?” I questioned.

John lightly scoffs at this, a sudden spark in his green eyes as he repeats my earlier gesture and leans forward as well.

“Can I play the bass? Well I guess you’ll all need to find out then.” John chuckled.

_Yup. Definitely keeping him._

“Imperial College. We can find a lecture hall there. You can audition for us, and hopefully, this will be our last audition for a bass player.” I told him.

Brian claps his hands together before giving John a friendly smile.

“Great, join the band!” Brian cheers lightly.

Brian grabs a napkin though, scribbling down more information with a pen he located in his back pocket before sliding it across the table to John.

“We look forward to seeing you play, John.” Brian smiled.

“I’m looking forward to it as well.” John replied.

After finishing his beverage, John gives us his goodbyes and takes the napkin with him. All three of us sit in a momentary silence, before Roger’s laughter breaks the tension.

“You nearly scared the poor boy to death, Jack.”

I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile.

“What? Just trying to show him I meant business.” I muttered.

“Oh you showed him alright. Is it cause he thought you were our assistant?” Roger gives me a knowing look.

I can feel my face flush before I realize it. I object with a shake of my head and reach for my drink to finish it.

“Try not to scare him away, please? He looks promising.” Brian asked me.

“Oh you just want him for his engineering skills.” Roger huffs out a laugh.

“Bugger off. That is far from the truth...it’s a perk though…” Brian playfully glares at the blonde.

* * *

_June 1971..._

****

“We need to do something about that lovely hair of yours, dear.” Freddie mused.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” I pouted.

Freddie’s hands stop moving in the midst of braiding my hair.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say there’s anything _wrong_ , but...with hair as thick as yours, I’m envious. I would be styling it as often as I could.” Freddie commented.

“And what are you suggesting? That I go get my hair fucking bleached or something?” I joked.

“No, I don’t want _two_ blondes in Queen. Rog more than makes up for it.” Freddie teased. “I’m thinking a couple highlights here and there. Maybe add some layers…”

“No way Fred.” I shake my head lightly. “I’m not messing up my hair for you.”

“But you would look so cute, darling!” Freddie whined. “I can already picture it!”

“You forget that we just paid for our rent.” I merely reply.

_I ain’t telling him about my secret funds...he’d never let me hear the end of it._

We pause after hearing a knock to the front door, and in come Roger, Brian, and John. Freddie smiled playfully and sits up taller amongst his spot on the couch as we greet everyone.

“How would you gentleman feel if Jacqueline got a bit of a new hairstyle?” Fred asked.

The three glance at each other with confusion, before they move to stare at me like some sort of art exhibit. I can’t help but grow self conscious underneath their gazes. I look down at my lap, twiddling my thumbs together as Freddie then undoes the braid he was working on earlier. He begins to run his hands through my hair as if I’m some kind of pet. Roger is the first to say anything, and grips my chin lightly as he forces me to look up at him.

“I mean, what are we talking about here? A trim? Perm? Highlights? Entire change in hair color? It’s honestly a rarity in itself that she’s got such dark auburn hair...”

“My hair was actually a light red when I was younger.” I admitted. “It just got darker as I grew older for some reason…”

Roger hums thoughtfully, still grasping my chin as he tilts my head from side to side. I gently slap his hands away from me.

“What kind of red? Like Ronald McDonald red? Or- -”

“ _Ronald McDonald?_ ” John snorted. “You do realize that’s not a color.”

“Oh shush, Deaky. You know what I meant.” Roger chuckled.

“I was a damn ginger, what more is there to spell out? I don’t know why my hair color changed...it’s honestly still a mystery to my sister and I. Hers didn’t fucking change at all the lucky bitch.” I rolled my eyes.

“You should become the ginger you are then!” Freddie grinned. “Oh it’ll be perfect! Add some blonde highlights and everything! Maybe curl it- -”

“Freddie! Stop it. I don’t have the money.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t I get a saying in this?”

“Oh lighten up, dear. Money won’t be an issue. I know about that secret stash of yours.” Freddie winked.

_Shit….how’d he find out?_

“Oooh. Secret stash huh?” Roger wiggled his eyebrows. “Y’mean that secret compartment in her nightstand?”

“Wait...she has a secret compartment in her nightstand?” Fred raised an eyebrow.

“Roger!” I shouted.

“Sorry!” Roger smiles unapologetically.

“Okay fine! I’ll go into my secret stash that apparently isn’t so fucking secret anymore!” I scoffed.

I get up and walk into the kitchen, going for an old tin that was tucked away in the cupboard.

“I thought there were sewing supplies in there?” Roger muttered.

“Well now I’m finding a new secret spot for my money. I was trying to save up- -”

“Well when we become legends, there won’t be a need to save for anything!” Freddie grinned.

“I’m being realistic.” I mimicked Brian.

Brian gives me a playful glare as he walks up from behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

“Mocking me, are you?” Brian teased.

“ _Never._ ” I rolled my eyes.

“When you two lovebirds are done, I know a salon that does walk-ins.” Freddie smirked.

“Alright, Bri. Let’s take this to the bedroom then.” I playfully joke.

Brian lets out a laugh, turning me around and pressing a kiss to my lips before releasing me.

“Oh you are absolutely wicked, luv.” Brian plays along.

“So, just out of curiosity...why do you have secret funds?” John questioned.

At this, everyone pauses to look at me almost suspiciously.

_Fucking damn it, Deaky..._

“That’s just...it sounds so _bad_ when you say it like that.” I sigh dejectedly.

“Well now I’m curious too.” Roger raised an eyebrow.

“Okay fine...just...don’t freak out.” I grew sheepish.

I hold up my small wad of cash to them.

“ _This_ was what I made from the last time I sold some of my supply.”

Brian tenses against me, before pulling away entirely.

“Supply? Y- -you mean you’ve _sold_ drugs?” He nearly shouted.

“It’s only weed, Bri. Besides...I do that to have a setup in case of emergencies. The last time we fell behind on rent was bad, long before you moved in. Remember? I nearly sold my family heirloom before New Years?” I defended.

Brian frowns deeply, and shakes his head angrily.

“Jack, you can’t deal drugs. Doesn’t matter **what** it is!” Brian argued.

“It’s not like I run a drug ring or something. And I don’t do it that often.” I shrugged.

_I don’t understand what has him so freaked out. I’ve only ever done it twice…_

The atmosphere in the room takes a different mood, and I find myself growing almost nauseous at everyone staring at me. My hands twitch nervously at my sides, itching for something to hold and grasp. I scratch lightly at my arm instead.

_I could go for a joint right now if I’ll be honest._

Instead of being on my side, Freddie moves to stand with Brian and drapes an arm on his shoulder as he leans against the tall and lanky man supportively.

“Darling, I’m kind of with Brian on this one. What if you were arrested for getting caught? It would look bad for all of us. For the band.” Freddie brought up. “We only say it because we care about you. I don’t care about your smoking habits, far from it…”

“Okay fine. I won’t sell weed again. You guys need to relax.” I shake my head.

“ _Relax?_ Jack, this is serious- -” Brian starts.

Freddie cuts him off abruptly slapping his hand over Brian’s mouth before he can finish his thought.

“Brian. She said she won’t do it again, so drop the conversation. No more arguing.” Freddie insisted.

Brian removes Freddie’s hand forcefully from his mouth, his anxiety showing as his voice begins to raise steadily. Roger and John glance between myself, Freddie, and Brian before they back away slowly. I inch backwards as well, getting ready to leave the flat if need be. Flashes of my father come in my mind, and I shake my head to rid myself of those thoughts.

_What’s happening to me? What the hell?_

“I’m sorry but I can’t, Fred. This is serious! What if she got herself into a bad situation?! She could have gotten raped or killed- -” Brian rambles nervously.

“Brian, it’s just marijuana! You sound utterly ridiculous right now, mate. She understands! She said she won’t do it again- -” Freddie objected.

“Jack! Don’t you dare move!” Brian pointed at me.

I pause in my movements and glance at Brian almost fearfully. No longer, do I feel calm and collected like I normally do. With my heart rate increasing, my breathing becomes more rapid and heavy.

**FLASH!**

_“GET THE FUCK BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BITCH!” My father’s voice yelled angrily._

_I keep running, grabbing my twin’s hand and tugging her with me before taking off as fast as I can._

**FLASH!**

“I need to leave.” I breathed out.

“You’re not going anywhere, don’t be daft!” Brian scoffs in annoyance.

Finally, upon recognizing the expression on my face, Roger surprises everyone by intervening. He moves across the room, quickly wrapping an arm around my shoulders in an attempt to cease my shaking as he rubs my shoulder gently. It works for a short amount of time, but I felt more grounded and safe against Roger. My eyes continue to dart around nervously, looking for a way out, looking for an _escape_.

_Why do I feel so scared? It’s just Brian. He’s my boyfriend. Although this is the first time he’s ever looked so...angry at me. I don’t like seeing him so angry...not my Bri..._

“Bri, you need to calm the fuck down.” Roger snapped. “She’s shaking like a bloody leaf right now. I think she gets it.”

Surprising everyone, Brian actually _yells_ at his best friend.

“You know what, Roger?! Mind your own fucking business for a change- -”

“ **All** of you stop it!” John snapped. “ _Look_ at her!”

I break free from Roger after letting out a startled noise. My vision starts to close in like a tunnel, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as if I’m having a heart attack. I’m stumbling towards the front door on quivering legs, and fumble to turn the doorknob as a sob barely escapes my throat. I can barely hear the shouts of worry from behind me as I make it out into the hallway. My vision blurs as I nearly trip down the stairs on the way out the building. I take deep breaths as I step outside, not even paying mind to the heavy rain as I get soaked within seconds.

_I feel like I’m dying...am I dying? I don’t know...but I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared._

**FLASH!**

_“JACQUELINE GET BACK HERE!” My father hollered._

_I lock my bedroom door, and back away from it fearfully. It’s not long before the door shakes with every hard hit on the wood._

_“NO! GET AWAY FROM US!” I screamed._

_Jolene looks at me with wide eyes, tears strolling down her face as she grips my arm tightly. I turn to hug her as my father pounds on the door. The both of us can hear him try to get in by breaking down the door. Instantly, I look towards our bedroom window, and uncaringly knock everything off of our nightstand as I open it. I shove Jolene towards the window, and together we make it outside. With one final crash, my father storms into our room to find us long gone. He screams in rage._

**FLASH!**

I finally trip, falling to my knees as another wave of nausea courses through my body. I get back up as I start heaving and just make it across the sidewalk before throwing up my breakfast from this morning into a trash can. I slump back down to the ground feeling utterly exhausted and close my eyes, finding small relief in the heavy raindrops coating my skin. As a hand touches my shoulder, I nearly jolt in shock until I come face to face with Roger as he kneels down in front of me.

**FLASH!**

_“You need to learn some fucking manners! You were never this bad when your mother was alive!” Dad shouted._

_Another whip of his belt, and I cry out in pain. I can see Jolene's fearful gaze through the crack of the door. I blink away tears as dad keeps hitting me with his belt, and close my eyes when I finally give in and take every hit he has to offer._

**FLASH!**

“It’s alright, baby girl. It’s just me.” He mutters softly.

As if approaching an injured animal, Roger moves slowly before holding me upright as he wipes my mouth with the back of his sleeve. Then, he hooks an arm around my waist as he helps me to stand on my feet, catching me as I nearly drop to the ground in mere seconds. I feel _drunk_ despite the fact that I haven’t had a touch of alcohol for two whole days.

“Hold on...it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He rasps out.

With strength I didn’t know the blonde possessed, he maneuvers his arms underneath until he’s carrying me bridal style.

“Let’s go in then.” Roger said.

I shake my head dazedly before my head falls to his chest.

“C- -can’t….need…I need...” I slurred.

“What do you need, sweetheart? We can’t stay out here. It’s raining fuckin’ cats and dogs right now.” Roger gently prodded. “Plus, you gave us all quite a scare.”

“I don’t feel good...need air…” I whine softly.

Roger sighs dejectedly before walking over to the entrance, locating a spot that we can be shielded from the rain.

“Only for a minute, okay? And then back inside. You think you can stand up now?”

Roger slowly moves me down until my feet hit the pavement, before helping me to lean against the wall. Upon hearing my shallow breathing, Roger looks at me nervously and holds my face in my hands.

“Look at me, baby girl. Breathe. In and out…”

“Am I dying?” I whimpered.

“No you’re not. You had a severe anxiety attack, luv. At least…if I’m interpreting this correctly from my old psych course at uni. Keep breathing. In and out.” Roger responds.

I follow his instructions and stop talking, trying to focus on my breathing as Roger keeps talking to me. It takes a few minutes before my breathing begins to resemble anything near normalcy. I blink tiredly as I’m able to make out more of Roger’s features more clearly. With my vision back to normal, I stand up taller and push myself off the wall near the entrance. Holding onto Roger to keep myself steady, I begin to walk inside with him as he slowly leads me towards the elevator.

The moment we make it inside the flat, the boys get up from the couch as they watch us make our way inside with worried expressions. Roger leads me over to the armchair adjacent to the couch, placing me down with a groan before he stretches out his back. Brian is the first to come over to me, peppering kisses all over my face and muttering apologies. I would have found it sweet if I wasn’t so damn tired.

“Is she alright? She looks as if she’s been drugged.” John mutters in concern.

“I reckon she had some kind of anxiety attack. Found her throwing up outside too.” Roger explained. “So if you lot wouldn’t mind backing up from her before she freaks out again- -”

Everyone takes a cautious step away from me.

“What the bloody hell caused a reaction like that?” Fred blurted out.

“Maybe it would be from that piece of shit she calls her father. _Something_ triggered her. Perhaps Brian’s shouting?” Roger bitterly suggested.

“I didn’t know.” Brian blinked away tears. “I was just so scared. The look on her face…”

“Roger, stop it.” John glared at him. “Brian was upset, for good reason. Plus we’ve had arguments with her before and she’s _never_ reacted like this.”

“He should’ve stopped as soon as she went as pale as a sheet. We all basically have an idea that she was abused as a child. Should’ve bloody known- -” Roger grumbled.

“All of you cut it the **_fuck_ **out!” Freddie snapped.

_No more fighting...I can’t handle it...just fuck off._

I turn away with a whimper, curling in on myself as I try to focus on my breathing and hug my knees to my chest. Freddie pauses, quietly cursing to himself as he walks over to me. After pressing an apologetic kiss to my head, Freddie sits on the arm of the chair, gently petting my hair back. I can feel my eyes flutter shut and lean into his soft touch.

“Oh my poor Brooklyn Jaybird.” Freddie murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“He’s not mad right?” I barely uttered.

“Who? Bri? No, you gave him a fright as soon as you took off. You gave all of us a damn heart attack. We’re just worried, dear.” Freddie assured me.

“I’m sorry…never meant to hurt anyone. Just wanna help.”

“You help plenty, darling. Just do us a favor, no more hiding secrets, okay? And no more illegal exchanges…” Fred smiled.

“Can I still get my hair done?” I lightly joke.

Freddie chuckles at this, and tugs down on a strand of my hair playfully.

“I don’t think that would be wise right now, dear. How about a night in? We can play Scrabble tonight, have a couple of beers.” Freddie suggested. “Unfortunately, your lovely hair will have to wait.”

“There’s no more beer in the fridge.” John pointed out.

“Hold on.” Roger spoke up.

He briefly leaves the room, before returning with an unopened bottle of vodka.

“Well, I’m glad I bought this when I did then.” Roger smirked.

Minutes as everyone gets settled into the kitchen, Roger and I leave momentarily to change out of our wet clothes. I barely hold back a yawn as I rummage through my dresser, grabbing a yellow jumper and slipping it on before finding some old sweatpants. I hear a quiet knock on my door and come face to face with Brian as I squeeze water from my hair. Brian wears a guilty expression as he hesitantly walks in my room and shuts the door behind him.

“I am _so_ sorry about earlier. I was just...I was scared for you. I overreacted about the damn weed, and Fred was right, I should have just dropped it when you said you'd stop.” Brian apologized.

“You were just worried. That’s okay.” I assured him. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

I walk over towards my door, opening it and stepping through as Brian followed me.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you or Rog- -” Brian started.

I pause in the living room as Fred and John set up at the round table near the kitchen. Grabbing the Scrabble box, and unloading the board and tiles. I can tell that they’re listening, but I can’t bring myself to care. I turn back to Brian and grab his hand as I place a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“Brian...if this is about whatever the fuck just happened to me, you don’t need to say anything. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it because...I don’t think that’s ever happened.”

“I should have known though. You...you told me a little bit about your father, and I bloody hate the wanker f- -for _ever_ treating you the way that he did.”

“Brian, if **I** didn’t know something like that would happen, you couldn’t have known either. It’s no one’s fault, it just...it _happened_. I’m sorry you all had to fucking witness that.” I sighed.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but...it **has** happened before I think. I just...I chalked it up to you being rightfully pissed at me.”

Everyone pauses as Roger joins us. I give Roger a look of confusion before he elaborates further.

“The night you had me in a bloody choke hold. I set you off I think.” Roger mutters thoughtfully.

“Oh yeah…” Freddie hums.

“ _Choke hold?_ ” John glances at Roger in surprise. “What did you fucking **do**?”

“I said some stupid things, _very_ stupid things.” Roger shrugged. “I was basically nudging a grizzly bear with a hot iron poker and instead of stopping, I kept provoking her. She had that same look on her face, like she was a caged animal. Scared out of her mind.”

Thinking back, I nod in agreement, but not before sending Roger an apologetic look. He merely grins at me before winking.

“She bloody well knocked me off my ass, I’ll tell you that.” Roger teased lightly.

“So what are we saying? That...Jacqueline needs a doctor?” John questioned.

“Despite Roger’s phrasing, he’s right…” Freddie mused. “Maybe a therapist could help you work through these issues, dear. Figure out how to...control these outbursts. Maybe Roger could join you.”

“Oh piss off.” Roger rolled his eyes.

“I don’t like doctors. Never have and never will. I’m not seeing a therapist.” I shake my head.

Brian gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

“I wouldn’t quite dismiss the idea so quickly. Jack, if you would’ve seen how you looked to us…we were downright terrified.” Brian told me.

“I don’t have the money for a therapist anyway!” I objected. “It just comes and goes, it’s probably nothing- -”

“Jacqueline, the fact that you have the audacity to shake this off like it was nothing. It’s...it’s god damn _appalling_.” Deaky scoffed.

“I honestly think in my opinion, that this is all because of stress.” I told everyone. “If this issue doesn’t resolve itself, _then_ I’ll think about finding a therapist that’s free or something…”

“I’ll take it for now.” Brian sighed. “Come on then, let’s just...try to move past this, shall we?”

As Brian and I walk over to the table, Roger moves to the kitchen to grab some shot glasses.

“I like your style, Bri. What’s your poison, mate?” Roger jokes. “It seems the only thing here is vodka, so you’ll have to make do with that.”

“Oh how will I ever live?” Brian smiled. “Hand it over then. I think we all need a shot to calm our nerves, yeah?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had tonight, darling.” Freddie smirked.

“A-fucking-men to that.” I nodded.

As everyone gets a shot of vodka, we all raise our glasses, clinking them together before downing the vodka in one go. I shudder as the burn of the liquid glides down my throat smoothly. After taking my place at the table, we begin to play a round of Scrabble. It’s almost as if nothing even happened, although it’s far from the truth.

* * *

_December 1971..._

****

Things had finally calmed down so to speak. We were bonding as a band, as a family, getting to know each other more. While everyone seemed to tiptoe around me, which pissed me off to no end, I kept myself busy with more shifts at Biba. Mary was like fresh breath of air, her words so refreshing and light. Despite the boys wanting me to see a real therapist, I found comfort in Mary instead.

Mary was an absolute sweetheart, like the mother I lost, she became a good friend to me. I started spending time with her after work, or anytime I needed some space from the boys. With Deaky now moving in, occupying the last empty room in our flat, privacy was almost slim to none. Mary liked to joke about being in a house full of men, while I merely rolled my eyes. It was kind of funny, thinking back on it now.

Brian and I were a bit strained in our relationship since that night, but tried not to let it come between us. I actually made several attempts to talk to my boyfriend regarding the sore subject, but he often dismissed me or avoided the topic. It was almost like we were back in time, considering he did the same thing to me the first time we’d kissed on New Year’s Eve. I came to the conclusion that Brian hated confrontation.

On a whim, I finally decided to get my hair done. It started with having to bleach my hair before turning it into a light red much similar to how it was when I was a child. The hairdresser that Freddie talked about was more than happy with the results, and after curling my hair, took a Polaroid photo. He gives me the picture with a warm smile as I pay him while including the tip before taking my leave. By the time I return to the apartment, I see Roger and Freddie bickering lightly with clothes scattered about the couch.

“Holy goddamn shit. Fred, _look!_ ” Roger spluttered.

“Oh I’m not falling for that load of bollocks again, Blondie! Not until you admit I’m right about this top being worth more- -” Freddie replied.

Roger sighs in annoyance, grabbing Fred by his chin before turning it to face me. Freddie’s eyes widen as he smacks Roger’s hands away. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Freddie is in front of me, smiling excitedly as he examines my hair.

“Oh it looks so beautiful! My boy Richie did a good job!” Freddie squealed. “Feel how bloody soft her hair is Rog!”

“Freddie- -” I stammered.

I jolt in surprise once again as Roger joins in and gently grabs a handful of my curled hair.

“For fuck’s sake! You guys act like I brought a fucking puppy home!” I laughed.

“I’m more of a cat person, dear.” Freddie smirked.

“Wow, this is _really_ soft.” Roger randomly commented. “What type of conditioner did he use on your hair? I might have to get some of that...”

Smacking their hands away from my hair, I make my way into the kitchen, grabbing some of the leftovers from Freddie’s mother from the refrigerator before heating it up in the microwave.

“I take it you guys like my hair then?” I asked.

“You look absolutely stunning, my Brooklyn Jaybird!” Freddie told me. “I didn’t think I liked gingers until now.”

“Me either.” Roger barely uttered.

With a smack to his arm, Freddie joins me in the kitchen and grabs the tea kettle before heating it up on the stove. A ring from the telephone interrupts the peaceful silence as Freddie goes to answer. Within minutes, we can hear the flamboyant man shouting in the other room before listening to the sound of the phone being slammed down. Freddie runs into the kitchen looking out of breath, but wears a huge grin on his face.

“What’s up, Fred?” Roger asked. “You alright, mate?”

“B- -Brian's friend, Terry, he- -” Freddie stammers.

Roger and I exchange an amused look as Fred pants.

“His friend what?” Roger raised an eyebrow.

Freddie takes a deep breath, his body practically shaking as he fails to compose himself.

“There’s a new studio that just opened up, the De Lane Lea, and we get to test the equipment.” Freddie breathed out.

Still not quite understanding Fred, he rolls his eyes dramatically in response before clarifying.

“For fuck’s sake! We can record our album!” Freddie shouted.

As it finally registers in our minds, Roger and I jump up and cheer happily before tackling Fred into a hug. This was the start of our big break, and it’ll be the result of an awesome album. In the midst of the excitement, I place a kiss to Freddie and Roger’s cheeks and wipe tears from my eyes.

“This is it, guys! This is where we make our mark!” Roger happily remarks. “I can’t wait for Brian and Deaky to get here! This calls for a goddamn celebration!”

_This is it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment! Some nice constructive criticism is always appreciated! :D


	3. When Will The Pain Fade?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Queen slowly begins to take off into fame, Jacqueline finds herself more lost than ever as she's reminded of her past. She wants the pain to lessen, and she even goes as far as to book an appointment with a doctor. She ends up not receiving the help she truly needs, so she does her best to cope with her "anxiety (panic) episodes" as best as she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was doing some light research about PTSD and they often used the term Gross Stress Reaction I believe. I also read that they didn't really use the term "panic attack" because the word panic referred more to "homosexuals". Either way, I did my best with trying to keep it as real to the time period as I could. Because back in the 70's, mental health was treated very differently than it is now. Anyway, I'm trying to move onto when Queen's fame really picks up without having it too forced or rushed. If I got any British slang or terminology wrong, I apologize ahead of time. Also as a short disclaimer, I don't own anything regarding Queen, this is all just for the story.

_December 15th, 1971…_

My breath hitches as soon as I see it in the pile of mail. My older brother’s handwriting stands out among everything else. I find myself staring at it longingly for hours on end at the round table in the kitchen. My coffee sits along the table side already forgotten and cold.

Wiping angry tears from my eyes, I stand up and walk over to the stove. I turn the knob, hearing the familiar clicking of the gas turning on before the flame sparks. Holding the unopened letter over the small fire, I hesitate. That’s when I hear the opening of the front door.

“Jack, what are you doing?”

I turn off the stove and watch the flames diminishing immediately. I resist the urge to crumple the envelope in my hands.

“Jacqueline. Are you alright?”

I glance up and see John standing in front of me, his expression showing nothing but concern.

“Yeah...I’m fine.”

“And what’s that you’ve got there?” John questioned.

Before I can act on my urge to rip the letter, John stops me when he slyly snatches the letter from my grasp.

“Deaky! It’s not yours to open!” I shouted angrily.

John inspects the letter, eyebrows raising in curiosity once he recognizes the return address from Brooklyn, New York.

“...this isn’t from your father is it?” John mutters nervously.

“No. It’s from my piece of shit brother that abandoned me and my sister to my piece of shit father.” I growled lowly.

“Oh. I see.” He nods.

Freddie comes into the kitchen at that moment, and from the look on his face, I can tell he was hiding just beyond the room this entire time listening in. Before I can yell at him, Freddie holds out another envelope to me. I recognize this one as the letter sent from my brother over a year ago. I feel tears prickling at my eyes as I lock eyes with my best friend.

_He….Freddie kept it for me?_

“I think you should open these, dear.” Freddie spoke softly.

I refuse to say anything as I swallow back the lump in my throat.

“It might help you...give you some closure. I can tell you miss him.” Freddie elaborated.

I nod as my eyes fall shut, as Freddie grabs my clenched fist and places a kiss to it.

“I d- -don’t know if I- -I can.” I stuttered nervously. “Could you two…?”

Deaky tries to hand over the other envelope to Freddie.

“Here, Fred. I don’t know if it’s quite my place to- -”

“No, John...don’t go.” I barely uttered.

I open my eyes just as I grab John’s with my free hand to prevent him from leaving, giving him a pleading look. After a minute or so, John gives it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

“Just...tell me what the letters say. I don’t think I can do it.” I said.

Both Freddie and John give me a nod, before we all move to sit together at the round table in the kitchen. Hearing the sounds of the envelopes opening in unison has me on edge immediately. There are two different birthday cards, one with an illustration of a rainbow and one with a birthday cake. John and Freddie look inside with wide eyes as they both pull out one hundred and seventy seven worth of euros from each card, before placing it in front of me.

“I’ll go first.” Freddie told me, before clearing his throat. “ _My darling Jackie…_ ”

I feel my entire body freeze uncontrollably as my breath catches in my throat. John reaches over, rubbing circles onto my hand with his thumb. I can feel myself relax underneath his soothing touch.

“ _I won’t try to make excuses. I’ll admit it. I abandoned you and Jolene. I left you two with that monster, and- -_ ” Freddie pauses, his own eyes watering. “ _And I regret it with every passing second._ ”

I glance up at Fred with wide eyes, it was the last thing I'd ever thought I'd hear my brother admit.

“ _I have already begun to make amends with Jolene, and to my surprise, I didn’t find you with her. She told me you had moved to a different country. I felt my heart drop to my fucking stomach when Jo said those words._ ” Freddie read aloud. “ _But she told me how well you were doing. That you were attending a nice college for graphic design, that you made a new best friend who was from an island called Zanzibar. She showed me every letter you sent her. And every Polaroid photo that came along with them._ ”

Freddie lets out a tearful chuckle.

“You mentioned me to your sister?” Freddie smiled warmly.

“‘Course I did.” I breathed out.

“ _I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I will spend every year of the rest of my life making sure that you_ **_know_ ** _that I love you and Jolene. So with that being said, I hope that you have a great birthday this year.Tell this Freddie Bulsara that I approve of his methods. Whatever it is that brings out the_ **_life_ ** _in you. You look far more happier than I’ve seen you in years, happier than the time I bought you your first drum set. I hope to hear from you soon. With much love, Allen._ ” Fred finished.

I feel my body shaking, craving for _something_ although I don’t know for certain what it was. Maybe I wanted a drink, to smoke a joint, for a huge hug from my friends, or maybe all of the above. Freddie wipes at his own eyes as he places the birthday card down on the table.

“What else have you told your sister about me dear?” Freddie teased.

“She’s my twin, I tell her everything there is to know…” My voice wavered. “Don’t worry, I told her you don’t go by Bulsara anymore.”

Glancing over at John, his saddened expression spoke volumes for how he felt. John holds up the other birthday card.

“You’re sure you want me to…? I feel like this is private, I probably shouldn’t…” Deaky hesitated.

“Just do it, Deaky. She can handle it.” Freddie confidently told him. “Right, darling?”

I give John a firm nod as well as a gentle squeeze of his hand.

“Alright then…” John begins reading. “ _Dear Jacqueline, I hope my last letter made it to you alright, otherwise, Jolene gave me the wrong address and I just sent two hundred dollars worth of euros to some stranger this year and the year before._ ”

John and Freddie chuckle at this.

“ _First, I wanted to congratulate you on graduating from Ealing. Jo showed me a Polaroid of you in your cap and gown, and I admit that I almost bawled right then and there like a little bitch. It felt like it was ages ago, that you and Jo were practically following me around like lost puppies. Is it sad that I miss those days?_ ” John continued. “ _I’ve been having dreams lately about when we were kids, before mom died. The memory just hit me one day after visiting Jolene. It had me remembering the last time we went to Coney Island together. It was for you and Jo’s twelfth birthday, there was popcorn everywhere and you two wouldn’t stop whining about cotton candy of all things. But I just remember that day specifically because it was the last time any of us were truly happy together as a family, before dad lost his fucking mind. It also made me realize just how much I miss the sound of your laughter. Hopefully I’ll be able to hear it again one of these days. I miss you so much, Jack. Have a happy birthday. Give your friends Roger, Freddie, Brian, and John my regards. Be responsible._ **_I love you._ ** _With much_ **_more_ ** _love, Allen._ ”

A sob finally escapes my lips, and before I know what’s happening, Freddie pulls me into an embrace. John sits there awkwardly until Freddie grabs his arm, forcing him into a group hug with the two of us. I don’t fight the tears this time, even as I pull back and kiss John and Fred on the cheek. I stand up, collecting the almost four hundred dollars worth of euros gifted to me from my older brother.

“Alright. Who wants to go get a fucking drink? My treat.” I mumbled.

“Is that such a good idea right now- -” John stammered.

“I think I need a whole _pitcher_ after all that, darling.” Freddie sniffled.

“....I’ll leave a note for Roger and Brian then.” John muttered. “They went skateboarding I think.”

_Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. Brian was so excited about it._

After putting on our coats, Freddie wraps an arm around my waist and leads me out the door as John locks up the apartment behind us. I end up having a decent birthday at the pub once Brian and Roger show up.

* * *

 

_January 1972..._

 

“No one wants our fucking demo, mate!” Roger snapped. “It’s bloody ridiculous! We put in all of this _effort_ \- -”

“I agree.” John sighed. “It doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere.”

Roger calms down a bit and nods respectively at John for backing him up.

“But that _doesn’t_ mean we should give up.” He added.

Roger slumps back on his seat behind the drum set with a defeated sigh.

“Do we want to do one more recording before we leave though? We should take advantage of having a recording studio for **_free_ **. I know we already have a demo tape, but...it wouldn’t hurt right?” I suggested.

Freddie doesn’t say anything, although he finds himself nodding in agreement.

“I want to redo _Keep Yourself Alive._ ” Freddie said. “We can put it on our new demo tape.”

And so we set ourselves to work diligently again, re-recording Brian’s song _Keep Yourself Alive._ It was a song all of us enjoyed bringing to life. Although, _Liar_ was by far one of my favorite songs. The main reason being that it was something _all five of us_ had worked on together.

It was a subject that had bothered me quite a bit, but one thing I didn’t voice my opinion about. Who gets credits and ownership to a song. Freddie was the first one to bring it up when we’d first started recording our songs in December, and at first I found myself agreeing with him. It was along the lines of, _whoever wrote the song should get credit_ , which at the time, it was logical and made sense. While everyone was in agreement, I eventually saw how this could potentially hurt the band in the future. Rather than burst everyone’s bubble though, I remained silent.

“ _Do you think you’re better everyday?_ ” Roger sang with a rasp.

“ _No, I just think that I’m two steps nearer to my grave!_ ” Brian smiled into the microphone.

My stomach flutters as Brian actually sends a wink in my direction, and the chorus picks up again after the two of us play our instruments loudly. Freddie looks absolutely pleased as he picks up the mic attached to its stand, and parades around the small space as if it’s his stage. Deaky wears a smile on his face, although his eyes are closed while he plucks at his bass guitar with such practiced precision. All five of us finish accordingly, full of energy and pure happiness. Upon finishing our recording, I’m snapped out of my thoughts as someone speaks through the intercom.

“ ** _That was great, fellas!_ **”

I glance over into the recording booth where all of us see two very nicely dressed men. I immediately recognize John Anthony, recalling how he was there for the recording of Smile’s album. I was still apprehensive towards him because of how I was treated previously. I swallow back my distaste towards him and politely smile regardless. We make our way to the two businessmen on the other side, where Freddie is more than happy to converse with them. That’s when we get the other man’s name as Anthony briefly introduces us, Roy Thomas Baker.

“You four were fantastic.” Anthony smiled. “Weren’t they, Roy?”

“I think you guys are fresh, commercial...it was _great_ really.” Roy added.

Deaky clears his throat, as he offers them a fake smile.

“I think you mean the _five of us._ ” He gestures to me.

John Anthony looks at me with such fake surprise that I have to resist the strong urge to roll my eyes and flip him off. I didn’t hate Mr. Anthony per-say, but I was far from pleasant when it came to even being near him. Were all men a bunch of sexist pigs, or was it just me? Although Brian, Fred, Deaky, and Rog were the only exceptions to this case, they didn’t count.

“Oh! Hello again, luv! I didn’t think you were still into this type of business! Thought you would’ve moved on by now.” He greeted me.

“I’m glad I’m able to surprise you, sir.” I replied with a fake sweetness. “We have a whole demo if you gentleman ever wanna take a listen to it. We’ve got plenty of copies.”

Roy cuts off his coworker, giving me an enthusiastic smile and nod.

“That would be lovely, dear. I think I might have to show it around to my bosses at Trident, eh?” Roy chuckled. “I thought you and Mr. May were excellent. I’ve never seen anything quite it. Like a _symphony_ of guitars. It was interesting but _wonderful_ to watch.” He complimented.

“T- -thank you, sir.” I blushed.

I go over to the couch nearby, grabbing my purse and rummaging through it. I pull out a cassette tape and hand it over to Roy with a kind smile. I can feel my body shaking with excitement, at the very thought of Queen _finally_ having a record deal. I barely manage to remain stoic and calm as the two men make their leave. Although, as soon as the door shuts, Freddie lets out a happy squeal.

Within seconds, his arms are around my waist as he pulls me in towards him, and surprises me when he presses his lips to mine. My eyes widen as I momentarily struggle against Freddie, arms flailing at the side in pure surprise. When Freddie pulls back, I see the _happiest_ grin on his face and immediately, my heart melts.

“I can’t _believe_ you did that, darling! That was amazing! I thought- - _oh never mind what I thought!_ ” Freddie nearly shouted. “But _you_ , my sweet Brooklyn Jaybird, are a **genius**! You played that man like a goddamn fiddle with that gorgeous smile of yours!”

“Are you suggesting that I seduced that geezer?” I raised an eyebrow.

Brian drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me back from Freddie.

“Hands off my girlfriend, you wanker.” Brian teased.

“I apologize for nothing.” Freddie smirked. “I was merely excited and blown away by our lovely Jackie. Oh, I’m so proud of you, dear!”

“You have no idea how long I’d been holding my breath.” Deaky sighed in relief. “I seriously thought you were going to punch that Anthony fellow. I saw a gleam of murderous intent in your eyes.”

“Jeez, give me more credit, Deaks.” I rolled my eyes.

“I would have held him down for you, baby girl.” Roger chuckled. “I nearly lost it myself when he acted like you weren’t even there.”

“I swear, Rog...you and Jack have such hostility and anger.” Freddie lightly taunted. “It’s a wonder we get anything done!”

“What the hell? I don’t throw temper tantrums on a regular basis, unlike _some_ people!” I objected. “If anything, I’m calm and collected, you bitches!”

“Whatever you say, dear.” Brian smiled teasingly.

“Oh wow!” I huff out a laugh. “What the hell are you implying, Mr. May?”

“ _Cough,_ you’re only relaxed after you've had a joint, _cough cough._ ” Brian joked.

I bite my bottom lip to stifle my laughter, and feign a look of annoyance.

“Have fun keeping your bed warm tonight, you giant beanpole!” I told him.

Brian laughs wholeheartedly, before peppering kisses all over my face. I squeal as Brian continues, wrapping his arms around me so that I can’t escape. I finally burst out laughing at my boyfriend’s antics.

“These two are so sweet that I think I’ve gotten a cavity just from _watching_ them be dorks.” Deaky quipped.

Freddie giggles and playfully smacks his arm.

“Oh shush, you sassy child.” Freddie mutters.

“I’m twenty years old, you horse’s ass.” John chuckled.

“You’re all a bunch of tossers. I’m getting a drink if any of you want to join. I say we celebrate down at the pub! I’ve got a good feeling that we’re getting a contract fairly soon!” Roger grinned.

* * *

 

_May 1972..._

 

It takes _months_ before we hear anything substantial or useful from Trident Studios, and it’s been a bit of a battle for all of us. The anticipation was slowly draining our spirits as we wait to hear word about a contract. Roger’s outbursts and fits of rage were increasing, especially with graduation nearing as well. Now instead of Dentistry, Roger had changed majors abruptly towards the end of obtaining his degree, now receiving a bachelor of science for his _biology_ major. Deaky is also graduating from Chelsea College as well so he’s been more distant as of late because of his finals.

It happens after things eventually settle down, when Brian tells us that _Barry Sheffield_ contacted us. It’s because he wants to discuss a contract for Queen after witnessing one of our shows. Having been doing gigs at colleges and clubs for over two years has been an experience of its own, but it hasn’t been easy either. So when we’re all told to meet up with Mr. Sheffield, we jump at the opportunity. At long last, things were taking a turn for the better. Queen was finally going to go places. We finally had a contract with a studio, and nothing else seemed to matter.

After another hard day at work, I invite Mary to join me at the pub and tell her as we celebrate. We start off slow, conversing about the day, before changing topics to everything is going in our lives. By then, Mary and I have had five shots. We order some chips to go with them along with cocktails as we begin to delve into the topic of our boyfriends. What starts off as a small get together at the bar, turns into a whole night of fun and laughter. Somehow, though, we get to the conversation of how cocky men can be, which somehow turns into a heated discussion about how women fake orgasms.

_I don’t know how we got to this topic to be honest..._

“And then she was screamin’, yes _screamin’_ , **_Oh Roggie! FASTER!_ ** ” I moaned loudly. “I didn’t get an o- -ounce of sleep, she screamed like a- -a fuckin’ _howler monkey!_ But ya could tell she was fakin’ it, man! No woman screams _that_ loudly!”

Mary is in hysterics, wiping at her eyes as her body shakes from laughter. Mary then points behind me, to which I see a flustered looking Roger. Freddie comes from his spot behind our blonde friend, chuckling as he greets Mary and I with a kiss to the cheek.

_Oh, you have got to be shitting me right now...how long have they been standing there?_

“Would you stop being so dramatic?!” Roger scoffed. “She wasn’t _that_ loud!”

“Tell that t’ my very thin bedroom walls. Y’ forget I’m right nex’ to ya.” I replied.

I down my shot of whiskey and wave the bartender for another.

“H- -how the fuck did y’ know we’d be here?” I giggled.

My eyes widen as I let out a gasp.

“Are y’ guys followin’ me?! Or are you p- -psychic?!” I slurred.

The bartender brings my shot, and before I can grab it, he places his hand on top of the tiny glass. He gives me a warning look.

“ ** _I_** was the one to call them, luv. I don’t know how much more of yer girl talk I can handle, as amusing as it was before. This is yer last one, make it count, and pay yer tab.”

“Harold! The fuck, man? I- -I thought you were my _friend!_ ” I whined.

“Pay yer tab, luv.” He merely responds.

Harold cracks a fond smile at me as he shakes his head, before going back to interact with other customers at the bar.

“Oh Freddie. I missed you so much…” Mary smiled warmly.

Freddie responds by placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

_Awe...they’re so fucking cute…_

“Thank you dear.” Freddie told me.

_Shit...I said that out loud didn’t I?_

“Yes...yes you did.” Fred chuckled.

_Eh...whatever._

I down my last shot quickly before grabbing my wallet from my back pocket just as Mary pays off her tab. I fumble around for the proper change slowly, nearly dropping my wallet as my vision blurs again.

“R- -Rog...I can’t fuckin’ _see_ straight man. Could y’ get th’ money outta my wallet?” I whined.

I don’t miss the roll of his eyes, but his lips quirk up in humor. He takes my wallet from me as I hold it out to him, and he counts the proper amount that’s on the bill before he places it along the counter top. Roger reaches behind me, and I smack him for being so forward.

“I’m putting your wallet in your back pocket, you daft bird!” Roger yelped.

I relax at this, feeling guilt gnaw at my stomach when I see the hurt look on his face. I reach out, holding his face in my hands as I press a loving kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Rog. Didn’t mean t’ hurt ya…” I laugh.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Roger muttered. “Fred. Can we switch, mate? This is absolute bollocks.”

“Nope.” Freddie replied without a thought. “You carry her to the van. I’ve already got Mary, dear.”

My eyes drift shut when Roger picks me up, and I slump against him. From there, I experience slight lapses in time. From being placed into the passenger seat, from having to stop the car briefly when Freddie holds Mary’s hair back when she pukes at the side of the road, and from making it to Mary’s apartment after a singing competition between Mary and I. Hearing Roger sigh in annoyance, I perk up and watch Freddie carry Mary to her apartment from the window. Roger quickly rolls down the window before shouting at our friend.

“Do I have to wait for you or are you staying here for the night?!” Roger asked.

“You can go home, darling! I’ll be back at the flat tomorrow morning!” Freddie assured him.

“Good enough.” Roger mumbled.

“Man, I _looove_ that woman.” I giggled.

Roger rolls up the window as Mary drunkenly shouts her goodbyes to us before Freddie shuts the door. I sit up in my seat before turning on the radio. When I hear Led Zeppelin come on, I can’t help but grin widely.

“I- -I fuckin’ **love** Zeppelin’, man.” I told Roger.

Roger’s lips quirk up and he rolls his eyes before driving away from Mary’s place.

“I couldn’t tell.” He sarcastically replies. “Especially from all those posters you have hanging in your room.”

“You couldn’? _How?_ I have almost all their records! Have ya seen them?” I asked in disbelief.

“I was joking, Jack!” Roger chuckled. “ _You_ are one drunk bird. It's almost cute... _almost_...”

“Jus’ wanted a girl’s night out.” I told him.

“You certainly got more than that, baby girl.” Roger sighed. “Y’know Bri’s gonna lecture you if he finds out, right?”

“I don’ care.” I pouted. “You drink jus’ as much as I do.”

“That’s different. I usually get shitfaced after a gig or on the weekends.” Roger defended. “It’s _Wednesday_ , Jack.”

I merely shrugged in response. I can see Roger’s hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Did you...have a bad day at work or something?” Roger reluctantly asked.

“Not really. Why do I need to explain- -”

“Jack. You’re lucky _Harold_ called us when he did. He told me some random bloke tried to pick you and Mary up. You didn’t even tell us you were going out tonight either. Something bad could have happened to you both.” Roger snapped.

Seeing Roger’s logic, my expression molds into something akin to sadness. I knew I’d have to thank the bartender later for keeping an eye out for Mary and I. As well as for calling our flat when he did. Roger was correct on all accounts, and what I did _was_ a bit reckless. I could already feel the regret and guilt gnawing in my stomach.

“Sorry. I...I didn’t think- -”

“No you _didn’t_ think! You’re lucky Brian was busy when I got the phone!” Roger cut me off.

_Don’t cry. Don’t cry….shit...I’m crying._

Hearing a sniffle from me, Roger glances over, feeling guilty almost instantaneously. He moves one hand from the steering wheel, placing it on my hand before rubbing small but comforting circles with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean to yell...I’m sorry, baby girl.” Roger sighed.

“N- -no...I deserve it. I’m an idiot.” I muttered softly.

_I mean, not a lie. I don’t think things through….much like tonight._

“No you’re not…” Roger assured me. “You’re just used to doing your own thing. But we’re a family...you’re not alone anymore.”

_I think that’s probably the sweetest thing Roger has ever said._

Roger turns his attention back to driving, leaving only the sound of the radio to dispel this uncomfortable silence between us. T-Rex’s _Bang a Gong (Get It On)_ plays on the station now, and I feel Roger tapping his fingers to the beat along the top of my hand. I feel myself relaxing underneath his touch as I reluctantly glance at him again. It’s almost mesmerizing watching the street lights illuminate his figure and fade away just as quickly. He looked absolutely breathtaking.

_I should try drawing him. His hair just looks so flattering in this lighting. Like a halo surrounds him._

“You’re so pretty.” I mumbled softly.

Roger’s response is immediate, his breath hitching, as he looks to me with wide eyes. At first, he says nothing, but as time passes, he forces out a small chuckle when he realizes how serious I am.

“Thank you, luv. That’s uh...kind of you to say.” Roger managed.

“Yer welcome...” I smiled.

Coming to a stop into the parking lot of the apartment complex, Roger slumps back into his seat as he closes his eyes momentarily.

“How am I gonna sneak you in without Bri noticing?” He sighed.

“Rog...it’s okay.” I assured him. “Y’ don’ need to protect me. I did this t’ myself.”

Roger turns to me with a slightly angered expression.

“No, he’s gonna lose his bloody _mind_ if he sees you like this. He’s been so worried about you lately and for good reason.”

_Of course, it’s about saving his ass._

I glare at Roger and huff angrily as I exit the car. My vision blurs as I struggle to walk in a straight line to the apartment building. The world looks like it’s spinning, and I can’t even tell where I’m going anymore. I just hope that at this point, it’s in the general vicinity of the apartment building.

“Jacqueline Louise Walker, you get your ass back here!” Roger yelled frantically.

I stop and turn around just in time to notice Roger catch up to me. Roger grabs my wrist tightly as he pants lightly from sprinting.

“There’s no need t’ shout, Rog.” I said.

“Clearly there is when you fucking take off like that!” Roger glared at me.

“Haa….you look so cute when yer mad.” I giggled.

“D- -don’t you try to divert attention by bein’ smart with me, luv. I’m not _cute_.” Roger spluttered.

“Yer right….” I nodded. “Yer _adorable_.”

Roger’s nostrils flare as he struggles not to lose his mind. Before I manage to fall onto my face again, Roger dashes forward and wraps his arm around my waist. Holding me upright, we both walk slowly towards the elevator after making it indoors. Roger pats his sides, grabbing at his keys as we make it to our apartment before he quietly unlocks the door and pulls me inside with him.

Despite how late it is, the lights remain on, and in the kitchen are Deaky and Brian in the midst of a heated conversation or debate. Brian and Deaky halt their speech upon hearing Roger and I enter. Roger sighs deeply once he realizes we’ve been caught and walks me over to the couch before placing me down. After stretching his back, he turns to see Brian and Deaky making their way over and looks as if he’s preparing for a fight.

“Mary called. Said Jack misplaced her apartment key when you guys were leaving the _pub_. She says she has it with her.” Brian angrily blurted. “I thought you said she called to say she was _working late_ \- -”

“I lied okay, Bri?” Roger grumbled. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be in bed by now.”

_He lied for me?_

I struggle to sit up and moan lightly as the room spins. Brian’s attention is on me almost immediately.

“And just what the hell were _you_ thinking? You didn’t even tell us you were going out tonight! I was- - ** _we_** were worried sick!” Brian stammered.

“‘M sorry, baby. I meant t' call…” I slurred.

I finally stand up from the couch and trip over my own feet in attempt to get to Brian. Roger gasps loudly and catches me again with his fast reflexes.

“And what has you _absolutely pissed_ on a Wednesday night, dear?” Deaky asked me.

“Mary and I were just havin’ a girls night out. It started off small, but then we found out tha’ drinks were half off! Then I was tellin’ her ‘bout the band ‘cause I’m so fuckin’ _happy!_ And then we ended up havin’ a very weir’ conversuuuuution on ‘ow women fake orgasms and Rog- -”

Roger is quick to slap a hand over my mouth, clearly not wanting to restart that topic of conversation anytime soon.

“And that’s quite enough from you!” Roger chuckled nervously.

Deaky fights back a smile as I lick Roger’s hand. Roger yelps and releases me when I move to embrace Brian.

“Bloody disgusting!” Roger hisses under his breath.

“‘M so sorry, Bri…” I pouted. “I was _stupid_...I meant t' call home, I swear. Cross my die and hope to heart...”

Deaky’s shoulders shake with laughter as he claps a hand on Brian’s shoulder.

“I think she’s learned her lesson, Brian. _Cross my die and hope to heart._ ” Deaky teased.

Brian snorts at Deaky before turning his attention to me.

“You know I can’t resist that puppy dog look.” Brian sighed. “But...I forgive you. Just _promise_ me you won’t do that to us again. I was damn well about to call the police over you before Rog and Deaks stopped me.”

I smile warmly at my boyfriend as I stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.

“Yer such a cute poodle.” I giggled. “I promise…”

Roger and Deaky make kissing noises at Brian.

“ _Such_ a cute poodle!” Roger cooed.

“ _The cutest!_ ” Deaky played along.

“Come on. Let’s get you changed and in bed.” Brian told me.

“Will you sleep with me?” I whined.

Roger and Deaky exchange a look before bursting out into laughter. Brian resists the urge to turn around and snap at the two as his face heats up.

“If you were sober, I wouldn’t have any quarrels with that, luv. Another time perhaps?” Brian stammered.

“I didn’... _noooo_ . Not for sex you dork!” I snorted. “T’ keep the elves out. They won’ be fuckin’ aroun’ with _you_ there!”

Roger and John clutch at each other, tears in their eyes as they gasp for air in the midst of their guffawing. Brian smiles at me fondly and shakes his head in pure amusement.

“Alright, I’ll humor you. Now off to bed we go, sweetheart.”

Brian picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he carries me to my room.

* * *

 

_February 1973…._

 

“Okay, so you’re telling us that the album flopped? And in America too?” Freddie raised an eyebrow.

“I mean...I wouldn’t necessarily say that, there was quite a review from the _Rolling Stone_ , said Deacon and Taylor were like a- -a _sonic volcano_. That’s not the worst review I’ve heard, so don’t give up hope just yet! We’ll just have to work harder won’t we? Develop a better album.” John Anthony smiled tensely.

“That so-called album took us _months_ of hard work, including the recording process, and you just want us to play it off like it _didn’t_ happen? It's a good album.” Roger scoffed.

“No! Of course not! But you guys are a _new_ band, not many people know of Queen. We’re going to change that soon though, I can guarantee you this, lads.” John told us.

“I never saw our record in **any** store to begin with. Were you trying to promote us _at all?_ ” Brian joined in. “Never heard our song on the radio, nothing at all. You just kept brushing me off whenever I called. Maybe if it had a little more publicity, the album wouldn’t have flopped.”

Brian slowly reaches over to grab my hand out of the need for support. I gently squeeze it in return, feeling just as angered as Brian was.

“He’s right. It should have been promoted _properly_.” I added.

Roy Thomas Baker makes himself known for the first time this meeting when he spoke up.

“We can all sit here and play the blame game. _Who did what, and what could have been done_ , but the bottom line is...we need another album. This time we’re going to do things _right_. I believe in you folks. I have faith that your new album will be even better than the last.” Roy told us.

So after that meeting at the studio, we left with our heads hung lowly, feeling absolutely saddened at the news of our album. Despite Roy’s encouraging words, all of us were left with the feeling of hopelessness. Immediately, it felt like we were back to square one, or even square _zero_ , right before Smile had broken up. Sensing my anxiety, Brian snaps me out of my thoughts as he shakes me gently.

“Enough with the puppy dog look, luv. It’s gonna be okay.” Brian assured me.

“Were you just at the same meeting?” Roger chuckled bitterly. “The album flopped, Bri.”

“I wasn’t expecting our careers to just jump start immediately, but it _is_ a little upsetting.” Deaky sighed.

We pause our walking in the parking lot as Freddie moves quickly and stops in front of us.

“So we’ll just create a better album, lovies. I think Mr. Baker was onto something. We can do it.” Freddie smiles confidently. “We’re fucking _Queen._ We’re only getting started.”

“Exactly, cheer up lads.” Brian nods.

“I still can’t get over that one review though.” I shake my head.

“Forget some stupid fucking review.” Freddie chuckled. “I’m as upset as you are, dear, but we can’t give up now.”

“It just pisses me off though! _A girl playing pretend with the big men?_ None of it was about my performance on the album!” I angrily shout. “It’s _abso- -fucking- -lutely_ ridiculous!”

Brian’s jaw clenches angrily, and I can tell it’s because of what the reviews have also said about him. All of it was bullshit, words meant to knock down a band just starting out. Who did those critics think they were?

“Lovely choice of words, dear.” Freddie smiled. “Now, let’s go to a pub nearby, get smashed, and then use that anger to create some beautiful fucking music later! Prove those bloody idiots wrong!”

Roger gently nudges me before wrapping his arms around me, a devious look on his face as he rests his chin along my shoulder.

“You’ve got a joint, baby girl?” He murmured into my ear.

I fight the blush off of my cheeks as I reach into my bra, ignoring the grin on Roger’s face as I pull out the joint and light it up.

“Really?” Brian raised an eyebrow.

I pass it over to Roger after having a hit before turning to Brian with a smile.

“You want some, babe?” I ask sweetly.

Brian’s eyes widen slightly, his breath hitching at the small pet name.

“N- -no thank you.” He stuttered.

Sensing Brian’s discomfort, I poke Roger’s cheek to get his attention.

“Alright, Rog. One more hit. We can finish it later at the flat.” I told him.

“Oh really? Come on, baby girl, we’re just getting started.” Roger whined.

_For Brian’s sake….I’ll finish the joint later._

“You sound like one of your lays, Roger. Whining is not attractive on you.” I smirked.

Freddie and Deaky laugh at the dejected look on Roger’s face.

“Let’s create a fucking album, yeah?” I asked. “ _After_ we have some drinks..”

“I feel so attacked right now.” Roger sighed.

Brian claps a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure your massive ego will get over it.” Brian told him.

* * *

_August 1973…_

 

“ ** _Again, darling! You need to be just a tad higher!_ **” Freddie spoke into the intercom.

I take off the headphones and glare at Freddie, maintaining eye contact as I gulp down my glass of water. I run a hand through my massively thick hair, and note how faded the color appears. I knew I’d have to get my hair done again soon. Another thing to worry about at a different time perhaps. Between all the concerts EMI and Trident had us doing, and with the decline with Brian’s health as of late, things had been hectic.

“There was nothing wrong with that take, Fred-Bear!” I argued.

Deaky and Roger exchange an amused look from behind Freddie as Brian watches me from the couch and lazily strums his guitar.

“ ** _Sweetheart, you know that’s absolutely bollocks. I know you can go higher because I’ve heard it._ ** ” Freddie smirked. “ ** _Make me proud, you bitch!_ **”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes at Freddie’s light tone, and finally crack a smile.

“Alright, fine! But I’m only doing one more for you!” I told him.

“ ** _And I’m absolutely certain that it’ll be great, dear! Now...again!_ **”

I nod and take a deep breath as our sound-tech guy starts up the tape again. I can hear the beginning of the _Seven Seas of Rhye_. The song is in its early stages, and we’d finally gotten the other sound bits of our other instruments playing and a little of the vocals. For the most part, however, we knew the album would be completed just before spring at the rate we were going. As I listen to beginning of the song, I bob my head to the beat as the tempo of the tambourine sounds. I ignore my hair falling over my face with every nod I give.

“ _Sisteeeerrrr!_ ” I sing with a high-pitch.

“ ** _I live and lie for you!_ **” Freddie’s recorded voice came through.

I grab onto the microphone stand as I lose myself in the music.

“ _Misteeeerrr!_ ”

“ ** _Do and I’ll die! You are mine I possess you! I belong to you~!_ **”

I wait for the cue as the line comes up quickly. Rivaling Roger’s falsetto at the end, I strive to go even higher, just like Freddie wants.

“ ** _Foreverrrrrr- -!_ **”

“Forever... _aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!_ ” I shrill.

It stops just as I throw my head back just as I hear Roger’s loud smash of the drums at the end of this verse, my hair flinging back wildly as I do. I pause when I glance up at the window, and brush my hair from my eyes once again. I take off the headphones and breathe heavily as I reach for the glass of the water nearby and drink whatever is left. Turning back to look at the window, I see Roger, Freddie, Brian, and John look at me with wide eyes. I lean in towards the microphone timidly.

“I wasn’t that bad was I? Was I high enough for you, Fred?” I hesitantly asked.

Freddie snaps out of his daze, reaching for the intercom button.

“ ** _That was tremendous! Beautiful even, my Brooklyn Jaybird! Have you and Roger been contacted by any unworldly sirens as of late? Holy shit!_ **” Freddie shouted excitedly.

I sigh in relief and give out a breathless chuckle. Fred briefly glances over at a flustered Brian, and his smirk only grows as he leans forward just a tad.

“ ** _I think you just made your boyfriend orgasm from that alone!_ ** ” Freddie winked at me. “ ** _Good job, dear! That’s exactly the type of sound I was looking for!_ **”

Brian’s blush intensifies as he nudges Freddie out of the way and speaks into the intercom. I can see Roger and Deaky holding onto each other as they cackle in the background.

“ ** _Ignore him please! Y- -you know that I would never- -_ **” Brian stuttered.

“Brian, relax. I know I’m unworldly, but it’s okay. Contain your excitement for when we get back home.” I joked. “ _I’m gonna give you my loooove!_ ” I sang Led Zeppelin.

I throw Brian a wink, as I move to readjust the headphones on my head.

“You want any other takes Fred? Or are we moving on?” I questioned.

Freddie moves forward again as he looks towards our sound tech guy here to assist us. The studio employee is quick to follow Freddie’s instructions and goes through the tape. It takes another minute before Freddie presses the button to the intercom again.

“ ** _Alright, darling. We’re going to do the next verse, so just follow along and get ready for your cues. Do exactly what you just did._ **” Freddie instructed.

When the music plays up again, I smile at the sound of Brian’s guitar along with my own. I lose myself into the music once again, dancing and bobbing along to the beat. I briefly clear my throat away from the mic before I attempt to sing in the way that Freddie wants. Higher than _Roger_ at times, which I didn’t realize I was able to do until fairly recently with the gentle push by Freddie.

“ ** _Storm the the master marathon I’ll fly through! By flash and thunder fire, I’ll survive!- -”_ **

“ _Storm the master marathon I’ll fly through! By flash and thunder fire, I’ll survive, I’ll survive! I’ll survive! I’ll survive! I’ll survive!”_

“ ** _Then I’ll defy the laws of nature and come out aliiiiiivvve!_ **”

I quickly lower my voice into a husky tone that sounds aggressive.

“ _Then I’ll get you!_ ” I bark out in unison with the recording.

“ ** _Then I’ll get you!_ **”

As soon as the tape stops, I take off the head phones and move to put my hair up in a quick yet messy bun. I glance over towards the window as I place the headphones back on. I look towards Freddie and Brian expectantly.

“Alright. Come on then. What did I do wrong?” I raised an eyebrow.

“ ** _What makes you think you did anything wrong?_ **” Brian asked.

“I’m just waiting for you two perfectionists to say something.” I give him a knowing look.

“ ** _Personally, I think you pretty much nailed what we were looking for. What do you think, Fred?_ **” Brian glanced at Freddie.

Freddie asks the sound tech to play back the song with my voice added along. It actually sounded pretty solid, and I can see Roger and John give me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I sit down on a tall stool nearby and look down at my nails while an argument seems to arise from behind the glass. I roll my eyes and contemplate leaving for a smoke, although I remember that I don’t have anything on me since I’ve run out of my supply. Pulling my pocket watch from my jeans pocket, I take a look at the time.

_Fuck...I’ve gotta get going._

“Can we hurry this bickering along? I’ve got somewhere to be.” I anxiously questioned.

Roger steps forward and ignores everyone as he talks to me.

“ ** _And where do you have to be exactly, baby girl? We’re in the middle of recording._ **”

As my heart rate picks up, I find myself nervous enough in wanting to leave. The angered and annoyed expressions on Brian and Freddie’s faces have me slightly upset. I hated seeing them fight, even if it was over something trivial. I’m sure they’d be okay by this evening though, they could never stay mad at each other for too long.

“ _Are_ we recording? Because I only see four of my friends arguing in there and waving around their arms angrily making some weird ass hand gestures. I don’t know what the hell you’re all yelling about, but I have somewhere to be in a half hour that doesn’t involve _this_.” I retorted.

Brian comes over to the mic just as I take off the headphones and make my way to the door.

“ ** _Where do you think you’re going?_ **” Brian sternly questioned.

I storm over to the mic and glare at all of my friends through the window.

“Somewhere else that doesn’t involve this bullshit. I’ll see you at the flat later, I should be done in an hour or two.” I merely replied.

“ ** _Jacqueline wait! You can’t just leave!_ **”

“Record the other bits! You don’t need me!” I snapped.

Without another word, I exit the sound booth and begin leaving the studio, not daring to look back.

* * *

I find myself buying marijuana from my usual drug dealer that I remained in contact with for his good deals. Stanley was a nice guy that I’d met while attending Ealing Art College, shortly before I met Freddie. I sit down in his apartment and glare down at the floor as the moments from earlier resonate loudly in my mind. I’d actually decided to see a doctor, and told him **everything** about my father, about the _abuse_.

It was mostly out of desperation, to _finally_ get help regarding these severe anxiety episodes that I couldn't explain. Hoping that medicine had evolved enough that there was something that could be done to prevent anymore of these outbursts. It took me months to squeeze in the appointment, one that I neglected to tell the boys about. The last thing I wanted was to receive looks of pity, or get bombarded with all sorts of questions. They’ll probably be proud that I took the initiative after that episode of anxiety that had them all scared shitless. 

“Alright. There’s your change, luv.” Stanley spoke up.

He gives me back the appropriate change and I tuck it into my bra.

“So...it’s been a while since you’ve come to me. I haven’t seen you in months. It’s unlike you.” Stan looks at me in concern.

“What’s with that look? I just ran low on cash and…” I trailed off. “Well...it’s nothing.”

“Oh bollocks, luv. I’m not gonna judge you. Have you been seeing another guy for weed? I bet he gave you some bad grass didn’t he?” Stan raised an eyebrow.

“No. I...y’know how I told you ‘bout my old man? The reason I moved here?” I lowered my voice.

Stan’s flatmate walks by us to grab a drink from the kitchen and moves to sit down near us. Stan is quick to dismiss his friend with just a wave of his hand.

“Yeah. Sounds like a real peach, that one. So what’s up? He try contactin’ you or something, dove?”

“I’ve been having these...fits of anxiety. Like...an _attack_ or something. One minute I’m fine, the next thing you know...I feel like I’m dying, my vision tunnels, I’m having intense flashbacks of my childhood that I feel like I’m experiencing right then and there. Anyway, I thought I’d go see a doctor and...he fucking...he dismisses me like it’s nothing, and I told him _everything_ which I absolutely regret now. He didn’t fucking **_deserve_ **to know when he wasn’t even interested in helping me. And I…” My voice wavered. “He wanted to send me away to an institution for some psych eval. It was a bunch of bullshit, and he even had some waver for me to sign, that would’ve given him permission to lock me away.”

Stanley’s eyes widen with worry.

“I didn’t sign the fucking thing, but...am I really that fucked up? Like...there’s _nothing_ anyone can do?” I blink away tears. “I’m sorry for just...laying this out on you, dude. I’m kind of...I’m a fucking mess right now. It took me _months_ to get that appointment and it ended in fucking failure!”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Stanley hissed under his breath. “What the bloody hell kind of doctor does that? Listen to me, Jack. Yer a good friend. A good client. I...there’s nothin’, and I mean _absolutely nothin’_ , wrong with you. You’re a good bird. You just have some problems, just like everyone else. Listen, I’m not sayin’ this as your drug dealer, but take as much as you need. If it helps mellow you out, _do it_. It might lessen your anxiety or whatever-the-fuck-it-is.”

“Okay.” I muttered softly.

“No, _seriously_. If you want some more grass, take it. On the house. It’s some good shit. You won’t be hyper-aware or anythin’ like that, luv. You’ll have a good relaxin’ ride. Just make sure you’re with good company.”

Stanley clapped a supportive hand on my shoulder. I take another medium sized baggie and hide it in the bottom of my purse. As soon as I zip up my bag, I stand up and wipe at my eyes. Stan is quick to give me a small hug as he walks me to the door.

“Look, you come by if you’re low. You know I’ll hook you up, darlin’. You’re my favorite customer.”

“I’m sure you say that to all of your clients.” I give him a small smile.

“Nope. Only the cute ones.” Stanley teased. “Take care of yourself, yeah? Good luck with yer band.”

“Thank you, Stan. I appreciate it.” I sincerely spoke.

“Not a problem, luv. Now get goin’. Tell Freddie I said hi.”

By the time I make it back to the apartment, two hours have passed since seeing the doctor as well as Stanley. Much to my surprise, no one is home yet. So I take this opportunity to pull myself together and run a warm bath. For a long time, I lounge in the bathtub with a bottle of wine I’d kept safely hidden from the boys.

**FLASH!**

_“Wait...what are you saying?” I muttered lowly._

_“Well. It’s just unheard of to have a young woman with your history of abuse to...be having these fits of anxiety and sheer panic. Sorry, panic is normally a term used for those homosexuals, but...in my opinion, it sounds like you have something akin to Gross Stress Reaction.” The doctor explained. “Although it’s typically soldiers that have this kind of condition.”_

_“I- -is there anything you can do though? Like prescribe any medication?” I stammered nervously._

_I can feel my heart pound in my chest._

_“Personally, I would like to have you evaluated and get a second opinion. Would you be willing to sign this waver? I feel like you’d be getting the proper treatment you so clearly deserve.” He dryly commented._

_He moves behind him and grabs a paper form before attaching it to a clipboard. After handing me a pen, I hold the items in my hands. I can feel myself shaking with anxiety as I read over the document. It would give this medical practice permission to place me in a mental institution. My eyes widen with surprise and hurt as I drop the pen to the floor as if it had scalded me. Glaring at the doctor with anger, I stand up abruptly and shove the clipboard in his hands before exiting the room._

**FLASH!**

I blink away tears before submerging myself underneath the water. I close my eyes as I hold in my breath, before slowly releasing it. I can see the bubbles rising to the surface.

_Fuck...what am I even doing anymore? It’d just be easier if I...no. NO._

I hear muffled voices from above, and immediately sit up straight. Air comes rushing to my aching lungs as I breathe heavily through my mouth. I choke back a sob as I grab my bottle of wine and finish it. I can feel the buzz kicking in quickly because I hadn’t eaten anything earlier today.

“Well her jacket is on the hanger.” Deaky muttered. “Hey Jack! You here?!”

“I can hear her from the loo, mate. She’s probably taking a bath or something.” Roger murmured.

I hug my legs to my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. Hearing the knock on the bathroom door nearly has me jump in fear.

“Jack? You alright?” Deaky asked.

“‘M fine...so fuckin’ fine.” I slurred.

“Jack. Are you drunk? O- -open the door. I need to make sure you’re okay.” Deaky politely asked.

Hearing the desperation in Deaky’s voice, I move to get out the bathtub, only to slip and fall on the floor. I whine softly from the pain in my leg and slowly get back up again when the knocking on the door persists. I wrap a towel around myself and fumble for the doorknob as my vision spins. I can practically see two John Deacon’s in my line of sight as soon as I open the door.

“Holy shit. _You have a twin too?_ ” I gasped.

“Your breath reeks of wine. For fuck’s sake, Walker. How much did you- -”

John’s eyes trail behind me, where he sees the finished bottle.

“What? You gonna judge me too?” I cried.

“Judge you?” Deaky raised an eyebrow. “Jack you’re not making any sense. What’s happened? You left the studio in such a rush...”

“Don’t wanna talk about it. ‘M so sad…almost drowned myself too. ‘M such an idiot. You wanna hang out?” I ramble drunkenly.

John’s eyes widen at my confession, and he’s quick to pull me away from the bathroom after draining the tub. He’s quick to escort me to my room before the others can see what’s going on. John rummages through my dresser, pulling out a random rainbow striped jumper and a pair of grey cotton shorts with clean underwear.

“Get dressed and meet us out there please. I don’t want you alone right now.” Deaky told me.

Almost timidly, John hugs me, before placing a kiss to my head.

“Get dressed and meet us in the living room.” Deaky ordered.

“Okay.” I nodded.

“Good.”

He shuts the door quietly behind him. Minutes after fumbling around drunkenly, I make my way to the living room. Impulsively, I plop down on the couch before cuddling up to Deaky and close my eyes while I feel a headache coming on.

“Is she drunk again?” Roger blurted out. “I can fuckin’ smell the cheap wine from over here.”

Roger eyes me suspiciously from his spot on the arm chair. Freddie, sitting at the other end of the couch, stops watching the TV and even turns it off. The silence is almost overwhelming.

“Hey...I was watchin’ that.” I whined.

“With your eyes closed, dear?” Freddie chuckled.

I yawned before snuggling into Deaky’s chest.

“Fuck off…” I mumble tiredly.

“So what has you in such a sour mood tonight, darling? Like Roger so kindly pointed out, you reek of cheap wine.” Freddie cautiously asked.

“People are fuckin’ assholes…” I grumbled.

“I think that’s a given.” Fred shrugged. “What got you upset this time, lovie? You can tell us.”

I melt into Deaky as he begins to rub at my back soothingly. I can tell what I had confessed to him earlier still has him on edge.

“I almost got myself locked up in a...innnsti…. _institution_.” I answered. “For crazy people. Ha...can you believe that?”

At first, Roger and Freddie think I’m joking and chuckle for a brief second. It’s the fact that I’m not smiling or showing any sort of emotion, that their faces morph into concern and worry.

“Wait...are you…? You’re **not** kidding.” Roger realized. “Where did you go after you left the studio? _Jesus_ , Jack.”

“Went to see a doctor…” I yawned again.

I can feel Deaky tense up against me, his hand halting in its movement. I perk up and crane my head to look up at him.

“Why’d you stop?” I pouted.

“You didn’t sign a waver did you?” John questioned. “ _Did_ you?”

“No.” I denied.

John visibly relaxes and slumps back in his seat on the couch.

“Oh thank Christ.” He mutters quietly.

Freddie snaps his fingers to get my attention, and I blink at him slowly while I struggle to figure out what he wants.

“So you went to a doctor....” Freddie prompted urgently.

“Y- -yeah. Went t’ a doctor…I thought Bri would be proud of me.” I smile faintly. “Took me _months_ to get an appointmen’…”

Flashes of the appointment become forefront in my mind vividly although it happened hours ago. The doctor didn’t look like he cared, didn’t look like he wanted to help me, and it hurt me deeply at how insincere he was during the whole process. I told him things I kept locked away in my mind for years, things I didn’t even tell my closest friends, in the hopes that this man could help me. And he brushed it off like it was nothing, almost as if he thought I’d been making it all up.

“What did you tell him to warrant a trip to an institution?” Roger hesitantly asked.

“I t- -told him everythin’. And he...he acted like I made the whole thing up. Like...I was crazy.” I frowned. “I- -I’m not crazy...am I?”

When I look Roger in the eyes, I hear his breath hitch, his expression saddened and pained.

“You’re not- -why would you ever think like that? **No**. You’re _not_ crazy. That bloody _wanker_ is a damn nutter for not trying to _help_ you. He’s a fucking _doctor_ , it’s his **job**.” Roger angrily spat out.

Tears spill from my eyes, but I give Roger a thankful nod for his reassurance. Freddie scoots over towards Deaky and I, before cradling my face in his hands. He presses a sweet and gentle kiss to my lips and wipes away my tears with his thumbs.

“When our career kicks off, darling... _I_ _promise you_ , that you’ll receive the best medical care possible. If you want it of course. It’s **always** your choice. We’re so proud of you for trying. I only apologize that it didn’t work out.” Freddie told me.

It’s as if a weight has been lifted as I nod frantically at my best friend. When the time was right, I’d get the help I wanted. Perhaps in the future, I’d be at peace with my life, and wouldn’t need help. Maybe my friends, no... _my family_ , would get me there one day.

“W- -where’s Bri? Is he mad at me?” I blurted out.

Freddie lets out a breathless chuckle and kisses the top of my nose.

“No, dear. He’s just at the market around the corner.”

I sigh in relief.

“O- -okay.” I stuttered. “I’m sorry for...for leavin’ like tha’.”

“Already forgiven, dear.” Fred responded.

I pull away from Fred and resume my place with Deaky, resting on top of him and closing my eyes.

* * *

_November 1973…_

 

In between our tour supporting Mott The Hoople, we’d been keeping ourselves busy. We’d had a brief scare with Brian’s health when an infected needle gave him gangrene. The threat of amputating his arm was absolutely terrifying for all of us, but we were thankful that this wasn’t the case when the antibiotics started to kick in and helped turn things around. We were there for Brian throughout it all, especially his recovery.

With the pressure to get our next album done by March, we were giving this album our all. I was proud to say that this was something akin to a ‘kitchen sink album’, being that we were very experimental in trying to create a fresh sound. Our efforts were not being wasted, and in my mind, I had a strong feeling that this new album would be successful.

A week prior to our photo shoot scheduled with Mick Rock, Freddie had made me go get my hair done once again. I get some tips on how to style my hair while I’m there, just in case I ever need to style it for different occasions. It comes in handy for the photo shoot, of which I know absolutely nothing about thanks to Freddie. It was particularly suspicious when only Freddie gives me an address and time for Mick Rock, and doesn’t tell me anything else regarding the theme of the shoot.

At first I think it’s just, well, Freddie being Freddie. Then, when I come to the photography studio, I don’t have time to reflect on it. Among the few people that are scattered about and frantically setting up the equipment, there are a few that recognize me and pull me with them to get ready. I’m only told to undress completely from the waist down as I’m being handed a robe to put on top in a rushed manner.

In shock, I comply without much thought and discreetly take off my shirt and bra before putting on the robe. When I’m sat down in a chair nearby, there’s a makeup artist who gets to work quickly and doesn’t waste any time at all. I’m almost impressed at how practiced and quick her movements are. She whirls me around in my chair when she’s finished, allowing me to look at the final product.

_Damn! I’m gonna need to put on some eyeliner more often. I actually look fucking great!_

“There she is!” Mick Rock shouts excitedly. “I was just wondering if Fred was taking the piss or what. Either way, now we can get started with you here!”

He helps me up from my chair before putting a hand on my lower back to guide me along with him. In less than two minutes, I’m greeted with the sight of the boys in nothing but their trousers. I can feel my stomach drop once I remember I’m completely topless underneath my robe.

_Was it too late to back out now?_

“We were wondering where you were, baby girl.” Roger grinned.

“Freddie was the one that gave me the time and place.” I awkwardly chuckle.

“Because if I told you what the theme of this was, you wouldn’t have agreed, darling!” Freddie wistfully replied.

_For obvious fucking reasons, Fred!_

Instead of shouting at Fred, I look towards Deaky and Brian, both looking just as uncomfortable as I am, with wide and pleading eyes.

“Is it too late to go home?” I asked.

“ _Go home?_ ” Fred raised an eyebrow. “Why would you say a silly thing like that? Listen, darling. Mick and I were talking about you, and I can assure you that no one will be seeing your lovely tits today. So you have nothing to worry about. It’s all about placement.”

“B- -but Fred. I…” I stammered.

_Well...let’s not mention the scars I have...maybe I should cover those up with tattoos? I’ll have to save up the money then._

Brian moves towards me, and gently turns me to face him.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. We’ll be right there with you. It’s just us. And we won’t so much as look in your direction, yeah? I’m...I’m just as annoyed by this as you are _believe_ me.” Brian assured me.

Roger throws an arm around my shoulders and gently jostles me with a grin on his face.

“Hey, what’s with the gloomy face? It’ll be fine, baby girl.” Roger chuckled.

“Well, I don’t like it when people are ogling me. Unlike _some_ people.” I give Roger a knowing look.

“Might as well give them a show, right?” Roger winked.

I roll my eyes at the blonde, and playfully shove him away.

“Alright fine. I’ll do it, but...none of you look at me when I take off this damn robe.” I told them.

“Aw, even Bri? We all know he’s seen it all more than once, luv.” Roger joked.

Brian flicks Roger on the nose before he places a sweet kiss on my cheek. As if by cue, Mick swings back over to us with his camera in hand and ready to go.

“Alright, John. I’m gonna have you stand here to the right side, _my right_. Brian, you can kneel down right below John. Roger…hmmm….I’ll have you on the left over here. Freddie, you’ll be on your knees too. Same as Brian but next to Roger. And squeeze in together, lads.”

Mick pauses when he gets to me, before giving me a gentle nudge towards the boys.

“Okay, Jacqueline. You are going to be…” Mick stops and snaps his fingers. “Take off the robe sweetheart, it can’t be in the shot! The theme is _innocence_.”

_What the fuck does that even mean?!_

I feel my stomach drop, moving to slowly untie the robe, and turn away from everyone as I shield my breasts with just my arm as the robe lays forgotten on the floor. In an attempt to lighten the mood, Roger whistles at me before making some goofy faces. It seems to do the trick as the boys crack a smile, and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. Mick guides me behind the boys and turns me towards Roger.

“Now, press yourself against Roger’s back, luv. And take ahold of his upper arm.”

Reluctantly, I drop the arm covering me as I do what Mick instructed and press myself flush against Roger. My other arm is raised just enough that it offers some more coverage as I gently grasp Roger’s upper arm. Roger's breath hitches just slightly, but he doesn't dare move or say a word as Mick inches over, and fluffs my hair before checking on the others. When he looks pleased, he grabs his camera, and the lights in the studio turn off. The only thing we can see is one lone light shining down from above us.

Mick works fast as we all face the camera. Our expressions remain blank, although I try my best to look as _innocent_ and doe-eyed as I possibly can to fit the theme. Mick looks deep into concentration as he lines up shot after shot. Flashes of light coming and going.

“That looks beautiful.” Mick smiled. “Alright. Let’s change up positions just a tad, fellas. Jacqueline dear...I want you to move over here and lightly drape your arms along Brian’s shoulders. His hair should be the perfect cover for you, dear, almost like a bush. You’ll be standing just above him and a little closer to John.”

Roger lets out a giggle, and glances over at Brian just as I move behind him.

“Y’hear that, Bri? Your hair is the perfect cover. _Like a bush._ ” Roger smirked.

“Rog, you better bugger off or I swear- -” Brian grumbled.

“Hush, Blondie. We’re trying to work.” Freddie whispered.

“What? I can’t have a little fun?” Roger teased.

“I believe you already had some fun, dear.” Freddie gave him a knowing look. “Less than five minutes ago.”

Roger’s smirk fades instantly as he glares at Freddie. Before he can comment, Mick is fast on shutting us up as he holds up his camera once again.

“Alright fellas. Wipe those grins off.” Mick told us. “John, get closer to Jacqueline please.”

We all put on blank expressions once again, trying to look as angelic as possible. I settle for a dazed expression, eyelids drooping down just a tad, and my lips parted. I press myself closer to Brian, and feel the gentle tickle of his hair grazing against my chest. Mick finishes after several snaps and flashes.

“Well _God damn_ , sweetheart! You paint a pretty picture. Bob’s your uncle, Jacqueline!” Mick complimented. “Roger, Brian, I’m absolutely gobsmacked by your hair, I _love_ it. John, you look fantastic, mate. You too Fred. I love that little band on your arm. It’s a good touch.”

I sigh in relief as I continue to hold onto Brian. I can feel my boyfriend relax against me.

“Does this mean we’re done now? Have you gotten enough?” I asked.

Mick responds with a shake of his head and a bout of laughter. 

“Oh we’re only just getting started, darling. But don’t worry. It’ll go by fast.” Mick told me. “We’re going through another set in a few minutes. This time you’ll have a top on. Who knows? Maybe this one will be your album cover.”

_Great..._

* * *

 

_January 1974…_

 

“We should be home by 9 if we’re quick enough. Just watch your speed, I thought I saw some bobbies up ahead.” Brian warned me

Brian and I decided to have a night to ourselves. It was something spontaneous when Brian snatched the keys of Roger’s van, but I’d been enjoying every second of it. It was something fun, and Brian was actually letting me drive, something I hadn’t done since before I’d left America. We’d had a casual date at a small restaurant just outside of Kensington an hour prior to this little drive out into the country. And what an experience it was relearning how to drive, especially in another country.

We’re currently in the middle of nowhere, just outside the city. The stars are exceptionally bright since we’re not surrounded by city lights, so I make the random decision to pull over to the side of the road without any explanation before climbing onto the hood of the car. I turn off the car, but leave the keys in the ignition so that I can listen to the radio. Brian gives me a look of confusion as he gets out of the passenger side and joins me on the other side of the hood.

“What’s with this then?” Brian asked.

I grin at Brian as I stretch along the hood, and attempt to do a sexy pose, all in good fun of course. It’s enough to make Brian chuckle in amusement.

“You don’t wanna stargaze, baby?” I asked.

“I mean, you won’t hear _me_ complain about stargazing.” Brian smiled. “But what’s brought this on, luv? You know Roger will want his precious car soon.”

“Oh he can fucking wait.” I laughed. “I just don’t want our little date ending so soon, you know?”

Brian humors me as he relaxes against the hood of the car, his hand slowly reaching for mine. I smile as our hands become intertwined together. Our eyes stay hooked on the night sky. For minutes on end, Brian shows me the constellations in our line of sight and tells me all that he can about each one. I think it’s always cute when he gets so passionate about it.

“This is nice.” Brian muttered softly. “I’ve missed this.”

I grow confused, but before I can comment, Brian beats me to it.

“I mean...between us working on the album, doing those photo shoots and...and with everything that’s been happening with you. And with how sick I’ve been lately. It’s nice to just...unwind for one night. I’ve been absolutely knackered for what feels like the longest time...” He elaborated.

“You’re right…” I agreed. “Things have been a bit hectic lately.”

I turn my head to look at Brian. His expression looks so lit up, so _happy_ , and it’s the first time in a while that I’ve seen him look this way. I’m almost afraid to break the silence, but I feel compelled to say something.

“I’m sorry, Brian.” I mumbled softly.

Brian snaps out of his daze and glances at me as well. His smile falters when he sees the saddened expression on my face.

“I know that I’m not easy to be around. Especially with these...fits of anxiety. And I haven’t always been great to you, making you worry so much about me. I just...” I sighed. “I want you to know how grateful I am that you’re my...my boyfriend. I’ll try to be better. I’m just...I’m working through a lot.”

To my surprise, Brian’s eyes glimmer with tears as he smiles sadly at me.

“Thank you. I...I needed to hear that, I think.” Brian breathed out. “There’s something that’s been on my mind, and...I don’t know how to say it. Because I _love_ you, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.”

I feel my entire body tense up at those words, but I nod encouragingly anyway.

“It’s okay.” I barely uttered.

“I think...I think I want us t- -to just...t- -to be friends.” Brian confessed.

His hand squeezes mine tightly as one lone tear trails down his cheek, and instinctively, I wipe it away before placing a kiss to his cheek in a comforting manner. As much as I didn’t want to face it, Brian was talking sense. Our relationship, as fun as it was in the beginning, had morphed into something else. With my mental issues becoming more apparent and with the way things were going for the band, our relationship was _strained_.

I turn to look back at the stars once again, as my other hand twitches at my side anxiously. Out of habit, my hand reaches into my pocket, where my fingers fumble with my pocket watch. It’s almost comforting, but not quite enough. My heart hammers in my chest as my eyes sting and blur with tears.

“Jack...please...say something. Anything.” Brian pleaded.

I turn back towards him once again, though this time with a pained expression, but I try my best to be supportive. I feel that deep down, it’s all I _can_ be at the moment. Brian was my friend first, and everything else came after that fact. Maybe this was what was best for the both of us. We could stay friends, and there would be less tension within the band if we weren’t in a relationship.

“ _It’s okay._ ” I choked out.

Brian’s eyes widen at how broken I sound, and he quickly sits up to wipe at his eyes as he looks purely overwhelmed with emotion. I sit up as well and wipe away at the mascara that’s most likely trailed down my cheeks. I put on a smile for Brian’s sake, and gently squeeze his hand in reassurance. I clear my throat and try to speak calmly.

“Brian. It’s okay. This doesn’t change anything, alright? You’re still my friend before anything else. If this is what you want, I’m...I’m okay with it.” I told him.

Brian’s hand leaves mine before reaching up to cup my cheek.

“Thank you. Thank you **_so_ ** much, Jacqueline. For being so understanding about all of this.”

“Of course. I mean, it was good run though, right?” I chuckled.

“Yeah.” Brian sincerely spoke. “It was.”

“One last kiss for the road then?” I joked.

Brian gives out a breathless chuckle, but to my surprise, he nods.

“Come here then, luv.” Brian smiled warmly.

This kiss is much different from the others we’ve shared. It holds a different meaning, like a tender kiss goodbye, almost like a conclusion to a chapter in our lives. Gradually, it grows more heated as Brian firmly cups my face with both of his hands and pushes on. My mouth parts with a slight gasp, and Brian’s tongue forces its way inside. Brian groans against me, and I find myself melting into him.

When we finally part from each other, I feel almost dazed as well as confused. Brian seems to share the sentiment as we gaze into each other’s eyes. Then, I reluctantly start to create more distance between us, and settle back down onto the hood. I look up at the stars again one last time.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.” I muttered.

I can practically feel Brian’s gaze burning into me as I move to get inside the car again.

“They are.” He replied.

* * *

_February 22, 1974…_

 

“Holy shit. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” I breathed out.

“Well believe it, Walker. It’s finally here.” Deaky teased. “Is it everything you ever hoped for?”

“Yes, because I totally envisioned myself on the set for _Top of the Pops_ on BBC TV.” I jokingly reply.

Roger comes around the other side of me and wraps an arm around my shoulder as we look around the BBC TV studio. It was a struck of luck to be honest, that David Bowie decided to bow out of _Top of the Pops_. I nearly did a double take when we were told we’d be performing instead of Bowie. That’s when we find out the news, after our makeup’s been done, that we're told more regarding our performance.

“Wait...we’re not _actually_ performing?” Brian raised an skeptical eyebrow.

“You’re joking!” Roger angrily shouted.

An assistant to our manager, Paul Prenter, gives us a tense smile as his jaw clenched tightly.

_Is it just me or does his Irish accent get stronger when he’s angry?_

“It’ll be fine, guys. You’re just going to mime the song. Think of it this way, there will be less of a hassle and your performance will be _flawless_.” Paul explained.

“It’s not as if we’re capable of playing our own instruments or anything.” I lightly scoffed.

Paul throws me by surprise when he doesn’t offer a quip and instead wraps an arm around my shoulder, which knocks Roger’s arm off of me. I can feel my heart flutter, although I don’t know what emotion I’m currently feeling. My face flushes as Paul leans in with a nonchalant smile.

“Oh Jackie, luv. It’s show business, yeah? I can tell this is just the nerves kicking in, but I _know_ you’ll be great out there.” Paul guaranteed. “It’s just the BBC.”

_It’s not as if there will be thousands of people watching or anything._

“O- -okay?” I stammered.

Roger glares at the Irishman with uncertainty and annoyance, having just been brushed off of me by him. I could tell that Roger was defensive with Paul’s more frequent appearances as of late. For the most part, Paul was usually out of the way before, until he was told to cater to the band. Originally, Paul was just the assistant of our manager.

“I’m gonna see if there’s anythin’ else that needs to be taken care of. Break a leg.” Paul said.

After Paul leaves, Roger’s nostrils flare angrily while his hands clench into tight fists at his sides.

“Did you see that?” Roger spat out.

Brian, confused but not quite as angered as Roger, merely nods in response.

“W- -what?” I utter nervously.

“It’s just a little weird...Prenter seems to pay a little more attention to you and Freddie. He’s supposed to be an assistant for _all_ of us. Or at least, I’d like to think so.” Deaky spoke up.

I find myself at a loss of words, which ends the conversation as Freddie comes over just in time on the five minute check-mark until we were on. Brian, Deaky, and I have our guitars hooked up to an unplugged amp while Roger gets behind his low budget and cheap drum set. Roger grumbles under his breath as Freddie struts forward and takes a seat at the cheap looking piano. Underneath his confident persona, I can tell that Freddie _hated_ the idea of being on television as well as not performing live.

_We’re just lip-syncing and acting. It’s okay. You can’t screw up this performance. Paul’s right! Just relax!_

“READY IN THREE, TWO, ONE!” A director shouted.

I see red lights emit from the cameras, and realize that this means we’re on air. Seven Seas of Rhye begins to play on a loudspeaker after a TV anchorman announces and introduces Queen. I can feel my heart pound in my chest as a camera turns turns towards my direction. I bite my bottom lip and reenact the way I perform live at our concerts.

I pretend to be on stage and ignore the camera, putting on a good act and begin dancing how I normally do while I play guitar. I can see Freddie grin and wink at me as he gets off the piano, quickly being handed his new trademark item during our shows, a sawed off mic. Freddie saunters his way over to me after briefly holding onto Deaky and pressing up against him for the camera. When he gets over to me, our faces inch closer almost intimately as we pretend to sing into the mic together.

I bob my head to the beat after Freddie moves on, and inch my way to Brian as we playfully pretend to play our instruments together. The song ends quicker than I recall when it finally reaches its conclusion. In minutes, we’re all done as the red light turns off and the show goes into a commercial. Brian and I smile as we unplug our guitars and briefly exchange a hug.

“That was brilliant, Jack! It almost felt like the real thing!” Freddie shouted happily.

Freddie collides into me from behind, pressing a huge kiss to my cheek just as Roger and Deaky make their way over to us. From afar, I can see Paul smiling at us, and for some reason, I feel unsettled by it. I try to shake off the bad vibe and turn to Freddie when he calls my name.

“You alright, dear? You look a bit pale.” Freddie’s smile faltered.

He places a hand to my forehead after brushing a few stray hairs from my face.

“A bit warm too.” Freddie muttered.

“I’m fine, Fred. I just uh...forgot to eat this morning. That’s all.” I lied.

“Let’s get going. Prenter said he’d take care of everything else. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done here.” Roger muttered bitterly.

“Oh I share the sentiment, Blondie. _Top of the Pops…._ ” Freddie lightly scoffed.

“I don’t know about you guys, but after such a tiring performance, I’m absolutely famished.” Deaky quipped.

We all share a laugh and get moving after Brian, Deaky, and I quickly pack away our instruments.

* * *

_April 1974_

 

Just as we walk out of the studio building for the day, we’re all stopped with a call of Freddie’s name. It was hard to get used to at times, even after how much time had passed. The fact that Freddie changed his name completely. I knew his birth name when his parents referred to him by his first name.

None of us really talked about it, mostly because it was a sore subject for Fred. So we accepted the changes that came along with Freddie with stride, since it made him happy. Farrokh Bulsara was now legally Freddie Mercury. It was...something of a _rebirth_. We could all tell how much it meant to him, so we embraced this change with open arms.

“Norman! What brings you here, darling?” Freddie smiled politely.

“I was hoping to have a little chin wag with you at my office. Paul was supposed to tell you to meet us there.” Barry said.

Paul looks almost sheepish as he averts his gaze.

“I apologize. It must have slipped my mind, sir.” Paul muttered.

“That’s fine. What’s up, Mr. Sheffield?” I asked.

“Call me Norman, sweetheart.” Norman insisted with a smile. “I’ve got wonderful news for you all!”

“Is it about our last album? I heard it went up in the states.” Brian asked.

“It’s at 49, by the way, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.” Norman excitedly said.

“Queen II is at 49 in the US?!” I squealed. “Holy shit! Where’s Seven Seas at?”

“Last I saw, it was number 10 here in the UK. The album itself is at number 5 on the charts.” Paul supplied.

I fan myself lightly with one hand as a huge grin is plastered on my face.

“Calm yourself, baby girl.” Roger chuckled. “I can practically feel you shaking.”

“I can’t help it! You can’t tell me that you’re not over the moon about this!” I shouted excitedly.

Deaky smirks at my reaction to the news.

“Well at least our work is finally paying off.” Deaky commented.

“Which was why I had you play _Top of the Pops_. To help put your name out there. We need to keep this momentum going.” Barry added. “I’ve already got you to support Mott The Hoople again, and this time you lot are touring America!”

My smile falters a bit at this, and the boys can immediately sense my change in attitude right away.

“I mean, we just finished touring around Scotland, Wales, and various parts of England...should we really be jumping into a tour in America so soon?” I blurt out.

Norman gives me a look of confusion, but before he can comment, Freddie rubs my arm soothingly as he cuts in.

“Darling, this will be good for the band, don’t you think? Also...maybe a visit to your sister will do you some good.” Freddie smiled encouragingly.

I feel completely ridiculous within seconds, and nod frantically.

“S- -sorry. Yeah, I’m sure...I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I mumbled softly.

“You look a bit pale, luv. You alright?” Norman asked concernedly. “America’s not that bad is it?”

Much to our surprise, Paul pulls me away from the boys and gives Norman a curt nod as he walks me away.

“Let’s just go for a walk, yeah?” Paul told me.

As we walk together, Paul talks to me in a gentle yet soothing tone and attempts to lift my spirits so to speak. I can actually feel myself relax as he instructs me to take deep breaths. It’s then that I realize I was on the verge of another fit of anxiety when I feel how utterly exhausted I currently am. In some ways, Paul actually reminds me of how my older brother was towards me.

“So the tour in America, I can tell you’re apprehensive.” Paul chose his words carefully. “Freddie told Norman and I a little bit of uh...why you moved here.”

My eyes widened from Paul’s words.

_That was in confidence...how much did Freddie tell them?_

“What did he tell you?” My voice shook.

“Hey! It’s alright. He was very vague and didn’t say much, but I got the idea that you were in a bad situation growing up. Fred was just trying to help you out.” Paul assured me.

“ **What** did he tell you?” I repeated.

Paul dodges the question when he hears Norman calling for him.

“Listen, I’m just saying. This tour in America. It’s good for the band, for _you_. You won’t be having any problems with me around. I’ll make sure you’re well protected, yeah? You don’t have to be afraid.” Paul smiled at me.

_What the fuck did Freddie tell them?_

I don’t get another word in when Paul starts walking me back over to the others.

* * *

_May 7th, 1974 in Manhattan, New York…_

 

“Fuck. I didn’t think I’d ever step foot into this city ever again.” I cursed. “Why couldn’t we have stayed at Connecticut for the remainder of the tour? It seemed like a nice area."

I glance out the window in our tour bus as it continues its journey to our hotel. The familiar streets of Manhattan were bringing back that sense of nostalgia.

“How are you feeling?” John hesitantly asked.

“Surprisingly okay.” I respond. “I had an edible or two before the drive so that’s probably why I’m so relaxed right now.”

John gives me a stern look as he fights back a snarky comment.

“Where did you even manage to get pot brownies?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Paul got some from one of our roadies.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course. Why am I not surprised?” He rolled his eyes.

At Deaky’s tone, I give him a look of confusion.

“What’s your problem? Paul was just trying to help me.” I mumbled.

“You think so?” John muttered sarcastically.

“What? I’m here in _this_ fucking city with you guys, aren’t I?” I snapped.

From down the bus, Roger, Brian, and Freddie pause in their game of Scrabble as they look in our direction worriedly. I curse to myself as I move to stand up, giving John a warning look to shut his mouth when I start walking down the bus to sit with Paul. Paul stops reading his book when he notices the angered look on my face.

“You alright, darlin’?” Paul asked.

“I’m fine.” I spit out.

Paul gives me a knowing look as he reaches into his messenger bag and grabs another brownie encased in plastic wrap before holding it out to me.

“You look like you need it, Jackie. Just try to mellow out before we get to the hotel, yeah? Remember, as long as you’re with me, nothing will hurt you. Just relax.” Paul murmurs soothingly into my ear.

I look down at the brownie in his hands and reluctantly take it from Paul.

_He’s right...I just need to relax._

I unwrap it discreetly and take a large bite from it. I hold the brownie out to Paul, who merely smiles as he takes a chunk and eats it. I can’t help but laugh when Paul gives up trying to pick up reading his book again and puts it down.

“I’ve gotta know. How much grass are you packing in your luggage? I can get one of the roadies to make more brownies for us if you want. Unless...you’d prefer something a little stronger before your show tonight? It might help you unwind.”  

Paul unbuttons his suit as he pulls out a small vial from a pocket on the inside. It contains a white powdery substance, and I can feel myself tense up when I recognize what it is.

_Paul has cocaine on him? What the hell?!_

Sensing my apprehension, Paul places the vial back into the pocket, and buttons up his suit once again.

“It’s okay. I’d **never** make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. I was just offering, darlin’.” Paul smiled warmly.

Finding myself at a loss of words, I simply nod in response.

“I’m sorry it’s just...I’ve never done coke before. I’ve always been afraid to try it.” I mumbled lowly.

“You’re meanin’ to tell me that you’re just a stoner? You’ve never done anything else?” Paul teased. "That's actually surprising."

“Well given that my father is a drug addict, I’ve been afraid of trying anything else because I’ve seen what that shit did to him.” I bitterly replied.

My eyes begin to droop as I yawn, my vision blurring slightly the longer I stare at Paul.

“You can take a nap if you want. I won’t stop you.” Paul offered.

I nod in agreement and find myself lying against Paul as the high kicks in quickly as well as strongly. I feel as if I’m floating on a cloud as I curl to snuggle into his suit.

“Mmmm...y’ smell nice.” I barely uttered. “Like peppermint…”

“Peppermint?” Paul laughed.

I can barely hear faint footsteps and crack an eye open to see Roger kneeling down in front of me. Roger brushes some hair from my face in a comforting manner. I nuzzle into Roger’s hand as I grunt softly for more of his touch.

_It feels light and feathery._

“Is she okay, mate?” He asked Paul.

“She’s just trying to get in a little snooze before the show. She looks utterly exhausted, the poor thing.” Paul nearly cooed. “She was tellin’ me that she barely slept a wink on the way here.”

“Really? She didn’t seem to mention that to Deaky.” Roger quipped. “Here, I’ll move Jack to her bunk and get her off of you.”

Roger helps me up to a sitting position, maneuvering his arms underneath me until he’s carrying me bridal style. When he places me down on the mattress, I whine softly and grab his wrist.

“Cuddle me, Rog. Y’ feel so nice.” I slurred.

Roger glances over at Brian, Deaky, and Fred briefly, before he moves into the bunk with me. He climbs over me before positioning himself so that his back faces the wall, and spoons me from behind. I smile as I hum softly and contently. After his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer, I move my hand on top of his and intertwine our fingers together.

“Yer so cuddly.” I giggled.

“And you’re a very affectionate stoner.” Roger chuckled.

Roger lightly runs his nails up and down my arm. My eyes flutter shut as I melt against him.

_My mom used to scratch my arm like that…man, I miss her._

“I hope your head is clear before the show, baby girl.” Roger whispered. “I don’t trust that Prenter. What did he give you?”

“Hmmm….jus’ a couple brownies. Ya want any? I can ask Paul fer more…” I yawned quietly.

“Tempting as that may be, I’ll have to pass. Edibles were never my thing. They don’t really agree with me.” Roger muttered.

I yawn again as my eyes roll back. Despite the fact that my head is spinning pleasantly, an idea strikes my mind, and I’m eager to write it down before I forget it. Roger grabs a hold of me just as I sit up, looking at me sternly.

“Where are you going? Lay back down.” Roger shook his head.

“I need t’...t’ write it down.” I grinned.

“Write what down?” Roger asked in confusion.

“An idea! I have an idea!” I shouted.

Roger is quick to shush me, but helps me down from my bunk as we sit in the booth with the others. Despite reason, Roger grabs a notepad and pen before handing it to me as he takes a seat next to me in the booth. I fumble to grasp the pen upright, but once I do, I start writing almost frantically. It’s as if I’m afraid my thoughts are going to leave me in a rush.

“What has you so worked up dear? You were just ready to snooze a minute ago.” Freddie smirked.

“Sssshhh. I got...got an idearrr...” I garbled.

Roger rests his chin on my shoulder and reads aloud what I have so far.

“I live my life for you. Think of my thoughts, of you, and only you. Anything you ask, I do, for you. I touch your lips, with mine. But in the end- -” Roger recited.

“Oooooh. What an interesting set of lyrics, my Brooklyn Jaybird.” Freddie giggled. “Continue Rog.”

Roger playfully glares at his friend, but does as he asks, just as I finish writing. I smile at Freddie dazedly and blow him a kiss. Freddie returns the loving gesture.

“But in the end, I leave it to the….oh she scribbled that out” He paused. “Okay here we go, _Leave it in the lap of the Gods_.” Roger finished.

Everyone falls silent as they mull over the words for a brief minute.

“That...that actually sounds fairly decent for a set of lyrics. I half expected it to be complete and utter nonsense...although it’s not that far off from it with how baked she is currently.” Deaky commented dryly.

“Wait a minute.” Freddie hummed thoughtfully. “That last part….lap of the Gods. You wrote something like that before didn’t you, dear? Years ago.”

Brian takes the notepad from Roger and scans over the words. I rest my head on Roger’s shoulder as I hum a random tune.

“She did?” Brian asked. “When? We could have put that on our Queen II album, it sounds like it could have fit in with our theme. It’s good, needs some polishing maybe, but pretty good nonetheless.”

“I nearly forgot all about it, darling. She wrote something like it years ago…I think a little bit before I introduced her to you both actually.” Freddie smiled fondly at us. “Oh I remember now! It was when we shared our first kiss! Don’t you remember, Jackie?”

I cackle at Fred and nod almost frantically as I picture the memory in my mind. It was still something the two of us could laugh about together. When we realized that we only saw each other as really great friends.

“Haaa...Yer so funny Fred. W- -we just like….looked at each other an’...an’ we were laughin’ _so hard_.” I recalled. “B- -but I still have that notebook! It’s somewhere in the flat…maybe under my bed.”

“We’ll have to look at it when we get back home then, won’t we?” Freddie mused.

“Yeah! We’ve gotta show t’ play!” I cheered.

“Well thankfully for all of us, the show isn’t until tonight.” Deaky lightly scoffed.

“...are ya mad at me, Deaky?” I pouted. “What’d I do?”

Deaky breathes heavily through his nose and massages his temples as if fighting back a headache. His expression morphs into one of complete concern when his eyes meet mine.

“I know being back in New York is difficult for you, and I wish I could help you more through this. I just...I don’t know how- -” Deaky sighed.

I feel a bit sober just from John’s distress alone. I immediately reach out to him, placing my hand on top of his from across the table.

“D- -Deaky…” I started. “Just you bein’ my friend is helpin’ me. The fact that you _care_. I hate this city, but...I’m hopin’ you guys can make me learn not to.”

I blink away tears as a sudden wave of emotion washes over me.

“I know I’m a fuckin’ mess, and I’m sorry- -” I whimper.

Almost in a panic, Roger forces me to look at him.

“Hey! You’re _not_ a mess!” Roger told me. “Maybe just uh...limit how much wacky backy you intake, yeah? We can help you.”

“The fuck does wacky backy mean?” I snorted.

“It means marijuana.” Roger smiled bemusedly. “I know it helps you relax, but maybe we could limit your use so you’re not partially brain dead, baby girl.”

“I don’t see the harm in grass to be honest.” Freddie shrugged.

“Really? You don’t?” Brian chuckled dryly.

“It’s just _weed_ , Brian. You all act like she does the hardcore shit.” Freddie smirked.

“You’re not helping, Fred.” Brian sighed.

“Darling, if it makes you relax, I say do it. Just….do it in _moderation_. None of us want you comatose.” Freddie told me.

“O- -okay, Fred Bear.” I sniffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought of the chapter. I worked really hard on this!


	4. When Shit Gets Tough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of angst in this one. And also smut. So prepare yourselves for smut! Chances are, I'll definitely edit this chapter later, because I'm fairly new at writing smut and it definitely shows. So if it's not to you're liking, I apologize lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a bit of drug consumption in this chapter aside from weed, and there's also a sex scene in this chapter as well as mention of death, so there's your warning I guess! I did as much research as I could find regarding immigration laws from the US to England in the 70's, but if there's anything that I might have missed, feel free to point it out. I tried my best!

_May 9, 1974 at Manhattan, New York…_

 

As _Tiny Dancer_ by Elton John echoes in the small record shop, I browse through rock and roll section. It was early in the day, so I decided to go on a walk and left a note for the boys being that they had access to my room. How I stumbled upon this old gem of a record shop was beyond me, but I found myself loving the massive music selection and how organized everything was. To me, it was like a dream come true.

“Are you Jackie Walker?”

I turn around to see a young woman, a couple of years younger than I am if I had to guess. Her giant hazel eyes look at me in complete awe as she wears the happiest expression.

“You are, aren’t you? From _Queen?_ ” She nearly squealed.

I find myself confused as well as shocked that this woman actually recognizes me, but I find myself smiling politely at the girl. I take off my sunglasses and prop them on my head.

“Yeah. I’m from Queen. You like our music?” I replied.

“ _Holy fucking shit._ ” She stammered. “I am such a huge fan! You’re so fucking cool! C- -could you sign my record?”

_She actually reminds me a bit of myself._

I nod just as she pulls out a sharpie and hands me the first issued Queen record from Trident and EMI. The front cover was a photo of Freddie on stage from one of our previous shows, but there was a whole collage of photos on the back from our very first photo shoot. I smile fondly at the pictures of all of us, especially one of Roger with a rose hanging from his mouth. Snapping out of my daze though, I quickly sign on the front of the record before handing it back to her.

“So what’s it like?” She inquired. “Being in a group with just guys? I think it’s fucking awesome what you’re doing. You kick so much ass when you’re on stage.”

“It’s a fun but interesting experience. I usually feel so mediocre compared to Brian.” I chuckled. “But I’m glad I can provide you some inspiration. What’s your favorite song?”

“I really like _Liar_. My friend let me listen to his record, but I felt like I really needed this in my vinyl collection, you know?” She smiled excitedly. “I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you! This is so fucking groovy, man.”

She pauses, her smile falling a bit when she looks down.

“I wasn’t able to get a ticket for your show. But _fuck_ did I want to. I’m just absolutely bankrupt right now.” She sighed. “You know what I mean?”

“Believe me, I get it.” I sympathized.

I perk up when I remember something, and rummage through my purse to grab two random tickets to the show. Paul had originally given them to me, although I can’t remember why at the moment. I just feel like making this girl smile again.

“Here.” I held it out to her.

The girl's eyes widen in surprise as her hand gently grazes mine to take the tickets. She looks almost hesitant and afraid, but I place them more firmly into her hand.

“ _H- -holy fucking shit._ You’re serious?” She gasped.

“Just as long as you enjoy the show.” I winked at her. “I know we’re not quite popular yet, so it means a lot to me that you enjoy our music.”

I’m thrown by surprise as she throws her arms around me, practically shaking as she hugs me.

“Thank you so much. This is the best birthday gift in for- _fucking_ -ever.” Her voice shook.

_Yeah...I like this one. She's adorable._

I pull back and give her a warm smile, as I grab her hands and place a gentle kiss to them.

“What’s your name, honey?” I kindly ask.

Her breath hitches as a light blush spreads across her cheeks.

“I’m...Abigail Strauss.” She timidly responded.

“Happy birthday, Abby. Have a good one, yeah? By the way, where’d you get that record? I never did get myself a copy.”

She slowly points to an area just behind her. I nod respectively and move along, and purchase the Queen record as well as an Elton John record just as I hear the door to the shop open. Much to my surprise, I see _Paul_ walk in, and after spotting me, he practically comes rushing towards me.

“Why the fuck did you take off like that? You have those boys half scared to death!” Paul hissed at me.

“I left a note.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I’m gonna get lost here, I know these fucking streets better than anyone.”

Paul lets out a dejected sigh before giving me an apologetic look.

“Sorry, luv. I was worried, _all_ of us were.” Paul said. “Listen. I’m glad I found you when I did. The boys actually wanted to go explore the city with you and- -”

“Oh thank the fucking lord!” Roger shouted.

We see the boys storm into the record store, and from afar, I see Abigail look at us with wide eyes when she recognizes my band mates. I’m snapped out of my thoughts as Roger tackles me into an embrace.

“Hey.” I greeted meekly.

I gently pat Roger’s back, and he pulls back to give me a small glare.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?!” Roger snapped. “That note you left was vague as all fucking hell, you wanker!”

I laughed at Roger’s choice of words, but I glance over at Abby and wave her over. Hesitantly, she starts walking towards us.

“You guys mind saying hi to Abby? And signing her record? It’s her birthday.” I asked sweetly.

Roger’s momentarily distracted when Abigail comes over to us. It’s as if his personality switches when he puts on a flirtatious grin and winks at Abigail. The poor girl is already a blushing and stuttering mess.

“Well hello there, luv. You having a good birthday?” Roger asked charmingly.

I pinch Roger’s arm, and cue him to sign her record. Roger looks very pleased when he recognizes the cover of the album. Freddie, Brian, and Deaky all share the same sentiment as they practically hover over me and take turns signing the record.

“It’s always nice to meet a lovely fan.” Freddie teased her. “Who’s your favorite band member?”

“It’s a tie between John and Jackie.” Abigail smiles timidly.

At this, Deaky looks at her in surprise.

“Really?” He barely uttered.

Brian fails to hold back his chuckle and gently nudges him with his elbow.

“I told you your dancing on stage would pay off, John.” Brian teased.

Abigail giggles at Brian’s little quip, and doesn’t miss the roll of Deaky’s eyes.

“Well I happen to think he’s a great _bass player._ ” She insisted.

“ _Thank you_ , Abigail.” Deaky smiled warmly.

“So you guys wanted to explore? Now that we have Jacqueline, we can finally get a move on.” Paul cuts in.

“Oh yes, right.” Freddie nods. “Well, Abigail. It was an absolute pleasure. Happy birthday, darling. You have tickets to the show then?”

Abigail smiles proudly as she holds up the two tickets I’d gifted her.

“Thanks to Jackie fucking Walker I do.” She excitedly spoke. “Thank you guys so much for signing my record. I’ll treasure this puppy always.”

Freddie chuckles and gives her hand a kiss before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. He then begins leading the way out of the record store. By the time we make it inside a taxi waiting for us, Freddie’s smile fades instantly.

“You, my dear, have a habit of scaring us half to death.” Freddie muttered lowly.

_Yeah...Paul pretty much expressed that._

“I left a note this time. That’s _better_ than what I normally do! You gotta give me that much!” I whined.

“You know that no one aside from Paul had access to your room, right?” Freddie raised an eyebrow.

“....okay, I think we’ve established that I suck at communication.” I sheepishly admit.

“Good to see that you recognize that.” Freddie nodded.

“I’ll give one of you guys another copy of my key next time, yeah?”

“Please see to it that you do.” Freddie sighed.

As the others gather in the taxi with us, Paul sits at the passenger seat up front.

“What on Earth were you thinking, Jack?!” Brian snapped. “You’re in a different country and you didn’t think to tell us that you were- -”

I tense up immediately at Brian’s harsh tone, and Fred is quick to pick up on how anxious I now appear.

“Brian, dear. That’s quite enough. I’ve already scolded her.” Freddie warned.

Brian quickly catches himself, and realizing how serious Freddie is, he reluctantly drops the subject.

“Alright then.” Brian sighed dejectedly. “Well we have a couple of hours to kill. How would you like to show us around, luv?”

When Freddie starts to gently rub my arm, I can feel myself slowly relax. Releasing a shaky breath, I glance out the window and contemplate on where we could go.

“I’ve always liked going to see the Statue of Liberty. I mean, I’ve actually never _been_ on Liberty Island, but- -” I started.

“Then let’s do it.” Roger grinned. “It’ll be something we all experience together for the first time, yeah?”

“That’s a nice sentiment.” Deaky chuckled.

“You wouldn’t have happened to bring my Polaroid camera with you, eh Paul?” Freddie asked.

Paul reached into his messenger bag and presents the camera to Fred.

“Here you are, Freddie.” Paul smiled.

* * *

 

_May 12, 1974. Uris Theatre. Manhattan, New York..._

 

While we wait to go on as the supporting act of Mott The Hoople, I notice how ill Brian appears. I watch carefully as Brian’s hands shake uncontrollably, his skin lightly layered in sweat. One could play it off as nerves, but I know better than to believe that. While Brian could be a bit timid and shy at times, I sensed that something was off about him. He was becoming more tired and frail again, similar traits he’d had when in the hospital for gangrene. I just hoped that this wasn’t the case.

“You alright, Bri?” I murmured softly.

Brian nearly jolts as I lightly touch his arm, and glances at me through half-lidded eyes. He looks ready to pass out right then and there.

“Brian. Look at me. What’s up?” I pressed.

“I- -I’m fine.” Brian blinked slowly. “Just feeling a bit under the weather. It’ll pass I’m sure.”

I place my hand to his cheek, and feel myself tense up from how hot Brian’s skin is.

“Jesus Christ, Bri! You’re burning up.” I hissed at him.

Brian leans into my touch, and practically nuzzles my palm as his eyes fall shut.

“Your hands feel so nice.” Brian sighed. “I missed your hands.”

_Um….okay?_

“Brian, I think you’re sick...there’s no way you’ll be able to play like this.” I mutter worriedly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m _perfectly_ fine.” Brian slurred.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England.” I rolled my eyes.

“Haa...no you’re not.” Brian shook his head with a smile.

When the others walk into the dressing room, Brian tries his best to put up a front. As they all get changed into their outfits for the night, I can hear the gurgling of his stomach. His eyes fly open, and quickly, I grab a trash can when I know what’s coming. I rub at Brian’s back as he vomits into the tiny bin.

“Still think you’re perfectly fine?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I just probably ate something bad. You’re the one that made me try that pizza- -”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” I gasped. “DiCarlo’s is the best pizza in all of Manhattan. Don’t offend a native New Yorker.”

“Is everything alright over here?” Deaky approached us.

Before Brian can say a word, I cut him off with a glare.

“Brian’s in no condition to perform.” I said. “He’s white as a sheet and sweating like a pig. Plus there’s the fact that he’s throwing the fuck up.”

“What’re you saying Jack? That I don’t perform tonight? That’s bollocks- -”

“ _Brian!_ You were just throwing up! You’re sick! What? Do you think I’m not capable enough of filling in for you? You think I’m not good enough?” I scoffed.

“I _never_ said that!” Brian shouted.

“Bri...we just saw you tossing up your lunch, mate.” Roger intervened. “Maybe you should take it easy for tonight. So you’re feeling up to it tomorrow. The world won’t end if you don’t play _one_ show.”

Brian’s grip on the trash can in his arm tightens.

“I’m telling you lot that I’m perfectly fi- -”

Brian quickly bows his head down, and throws up into the trash can again.

“That’s just nasty, mate.” Deaky muttered. “But they’re right. Go...go _back_ to the hotel. We’ll need you at your best before we leave New York, yeah?”   
I brush back Brian’s hair as he lets out a groan.

“Fuuuuuucck. What the hell was in that pizza?” He whined.

“Brian, I don’t think this is from having two slices of pizza.” Roger chuckled.

“Fine. _Fine._ I’ll go back to the hotel.” Brian gave in.

“You better take it easy, and I mean it this time. We’ll check by later, alright?” I told him.

I place a kiss to his head and gently usher him out of the dressing room. That’s when I move to get dressed behind a three panel dressing screen.

“Hey, Jack...I know this is a bit random to ask but- -”

Roger appears at the side of the screen and casually leans against it.

“ _Roger!_ What the fuck?!” I nearly scream.

“I’m not even looking!” Roger argued.

“What the hell do you want? I’m trying to get changed!”

Roger sighs heavily as he runs his hand through his hair. He looks conflicted about something, although I can’t figure out what. He quickly turns away from me, as I struggle with a zipper on the back of my shirt. I can hear Roger fidget in his spot, as if he’s on the lookout for something, or rather _someone_.

“I know this isn’t exactly an ideal time to bring this up, but umm….what do you think of Brian’s new girl?”

I pause just as I turn around. Roger realizes that I need his help zipping up my outfit. I barely hold back a gasp when Roger’s surprisingly cold fingers make contact with my skin.

“The fuck were you holding, Rog? An ice cube?” I whined.

Roger chuckles from my comment as he fiddles with the zipper, and turns me around when he’s finished.

“So what’s up?” I raise a questioning eyebrow.

“What uh...what do you think of Brian’s new girl, Crystal?”

“It’s Chrissie.” I pointed out.

“Right, and you don’t think those two are moving awfully fast?” Roger blurted out. “I don’t...I just thought that you two were _good_ for each other. I don’t like the idea of Bri getting so deeply invested in someone so damn quickly.”

_**You** gave me shit when I started dating Brian...and I still don't know why. _

I give Roger a look of complete and utter confusion.

“Why do you care so much about Brian and I? We ended our relationship on relatively good terms. I think it’s better for _everyone_ that way. Less tension within the band. Plus...Chrissie is nice. I like her with Brian. Where’s all this coming from?”

“B- -Bri...he told me that he just proposed to Chrissie, and that she said _yes_.” Roger confessed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but he’s acting like he’s all head over heels for her. I don’t think he’s quite moved on from you yet and it shows in small ways. I’m worried about him.”

My eyes widened from the news.

“H- -he _proposed_ to her?” I echoed.

“ _Exactly_ my point. He’s been dating her since you two broke it off in January, and I don’t like how he’s been acting as of late. Plus Chrissie gives you the _dirtiest_ looks whenever you’re in the same room because she thinks you’re still into Bri, or that he’s still interested in you...which he kind of is..”

_Well this is fucking news to me. Did I just not notice before? Does Chrissie hate me? I thought we were good friends..._

“I know Brian has been your friend for a long time, but don’t you think you’re overreacting? Maybe Brian _really_ likes Chrissie. And that’s fine with me because I was doing nothing but dragging him down.” I told him.

“ _Dragging him down?_ What on earth are you talking about, Jack? If this is about the anxiety attacks, you’ve been handling it better. You haven’t had an episode in months. You’re _actively_ trying to seek help for it.” Roger defended.

_Why does he want us together so badly?_

“ _Roger_ , cool it. I know that Brian was seeing Chrissie months before we broke it off.” I pointed out.

Roger pauses as he processes this newly found information.

“He fucking _cheated_ on you?” Roger hissed. “And you didn’t say _anything!_ Why?”

“Because I was afraid to bring it up and I still am. But the two of us are still good friends, and I value our friendship more than anything. I guess, I wasn’t as in love with Bri as I thought I was, or I would have made a bigger deal of it. The feelings just faded. Especially when I found out about Chrissie...I just realized later towards the end that I was holding him back.” I admitted.

“So we’re just going to let Brian do this? Marry someone that he’s only been seeing for a couple of months?” Roger mutters in disbelief.

“Oh, I can tell they’ve known each other for quite awhile since he was in university even. _More_ than a couple of months. But none of that matters. We just have to support him, yeah? Brian’s our friend. I know you want what’s best for us, but I don’t think Brian and I are good for each other. Not anymore.”

Roger says nothing as I move to hug him. He leans into me, burying his face into the gap between my neck and shoulder. I don’t say anything, but rub his back comfortingly.

“Everythin’ okay back here?”

We pull apart to see Paul watching us carefully. I find myself a bit unnerved by it although I don’t know why.

“We’re cool, Paul.” I muttered.

Paul smiles warmly at me, and it immediately puts me at ease.

_He’s so damn protective...it reminds me so much of my brother._

“The show’s ‘bout to start then, darlin’. Brian got into a taxi, so he should be on his way back to the hotel. He wanted me to tell you guys.” Paul informed us.

I can feel Roger tense up against me before he pulls away completely. Roger openly glares at the Irishman as he moves to walk away, but not before purposely bumping into him with his shoulder. I quickly move from behind the screen as Paul wordlessly follows me when I go to quickly apply on some makeup.

“How long do we have before we go on?” I asked.

“About six minutes.” Paul replied.

I put on some eyeliner and mascara before applying a light layer of eye shadow.

“You alright, darlin’? You look a little on edge.” Paul commented.

“I’m j- -just worried about Brian to be honest.” I splutter. “I- -I’ve never played without him…”

“I’ve got a brownie if you want one?” Paul offered.

“The last thing I need right now is a brownie.” I chuckled breathlessly. “Do we have any vodka around here? I think a shot or two might help put my nerves at ease.”

“I would but umm...John already got the last of the vodka. The groupies are out to buy more alcohol for the show. They have a little cocktail bar set up on stage and everything.”

I exhale a shaky breath and run a hand through my hair as I glance at my reflection in the mirror.

_Brian looked so...helpless...I hope he’s okay…_

“Here, have one of these.”

I turn to Paul, who places a small white pill in my palm. I give him a look of confusion.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’ll help relax you.” Paul assured me.

Paul chuckled at my apprehensiveness and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Jackie, luv. I told you I’d protect you, it’s _fine_. It’ll help mellow you out. Give you less of a headache.” Paul smiled.

Hesitantly, I put the pill in my mouth and swallow. I look around the dressing room before wondering where the hell my band mates are. Paul wraps an arm around my shoulder as we both walk out of the dressing room together side by side. A groupie approaches us with my guitar and I carefully place the guitar-strap on me.

_I can do this. I’ll make Brian proud._

Holding my guitar tightly, I feel my vision blur within several short minutes and lean into Paul.

“Fuck.” I breathed out. “W- -what did you give me? I can already feel it kicking in.”

“It’s just ecstasy, darlin’. You’ll be absolutely fine.” Paul guaranteed.

My eyes widened drastically, and before I can truly get a word in, I see Roger, Freddie and Deaky rejoin us. Afraid to say anything to my friends, I follow them onto the stage just as Mott The Hoople moves to get ready in our dressing room. The band gives us an encouraging smile and thumbs up as we walk past them. I sport a grin as everyone takes their places on stage and plug my guitar into the amp with the help of a roadie.

“Hello New York City!” Freddie spoke into the mic.

The audience cheers at Fred’s greeting, and I can tell they’re already entranced by him. I step towards my mic, looking at the hundreds of people in attendance. The light begins to affect my sight, and when I squint hard enough, everyone seems to mold into a colorful wave, like a sea made of rainbows. It looks absolutely _beautiful_ and I can’t help but giggle into my mic. Freddie pauses and glances at me in confusion before he saunters over to me and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. 

“While our lovely Brian may not be with us tonight, we still have our other lead guitarist here with us! Please give a warm welcome to fellow New Yorker, Jackie Walker!” Freddie smiled.

I wave at the audience happily and relish in their cheers.

“Hello New York! It’s good to be back!” I shouted excitedly. “You guys make being back here in the ol’ USA worth it! Let’s have a good time, yeah? Also, a lovely young woman in the audience had a birthday recently! Abigail! If you’re here tonight, our first song is dedicated to you, baby!”

After another round of applause, Freddie is momentarily distracted and goes back to his place at the center of the stage. He looks absolutely pleased that I was actively engaging with the audience, something I didn’t normally do.

“Alright, lovies, this first song we’ll be playing for you is on our Queen II album. It’s just been released very recently as a matter of fact.” Freddie said. “Let’s see if you recognize it! It is called Ogre Battle!”

Hearing the positive chanting from the crows, Roger takes that as his cue, beating his drumsticks together swiftly as he counts down.

“ _One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!_ ”

I start playing as soon as Roger starts and really gets the beat going.

“Aaaaaah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Aaaaaaaa~!” We all sing in unison.

Freddie faces the audience, tapping his foot to rhythm of the song.

“ _Now once upon a time - an old man told me a fable! When the piper is gone - and the soup is cold on your table! And if the black crow flies to find a new destination! That is the siiiiiign!_ ” Freddie sang.

I close my eyes and lose myself in the music. I dance energetically as I play, smiling dazedly at the changes in color with the spotlights. I felt so light, like I could do anything or take on anyone. This high felt fucking amazing despite how my heart was racing.

_Why hadn’t I tried ecstasy sooner? This feels amazing._

“ _Come tonight!_ ” We sang together. “ _Come to the ogre sight! Come to the ogre-battle-fiiiiiiggght._ ”

“ _He gives a great big cry and he can swallow up the ocean! With a mighty tongue he catches flies - the palm of a hand incredible size! One great big eye - has a focus in your direction! Now the battle is ooooon! Yeah yeah yeah!_ ” Freddie threw his fist up in the air.

“ _Come tonight! Come to the ogre sight! Come to the ogre-battle-fiiiigght!_ ”

I start dancing towards the center of the stage as my cue begins, and I can barely feel my fingers once I really delve into it. I give it my all, and in the back of my mind, Brian was my motivator to push myself. I can hear the audience cheer, and it’s like a drug of its own, despite having taken the ecstasy Paul had given me. I turn around and face Roger, sending him a wink as he joins in on my small solo.

“ _The ogre-men are still inside. The two-way mirror mountain. You gotta keep down right out of sight! You can't see in, but they can see out "Ooh keep a lookout" The ogre-men are coming out. From the two-way mirror mountain. They're running up behind and they're coming all about. Can't go east 'cause you gotta go south!_ ”

I stumble and fall as I slide a good distance on my knees on the stage, and Roger’s eyes widen momentarily in worry. The audience cheers when they think I do this intentionally, and I throw my head back as the spotlight starts focusing in on me. My vision dances wildly as I continue to play, my fingers never once straying from my instrument. I felt like a man on a mission.

“ _Ogre-men are going home. The great big fight is over. Bugle blow, let trumpet cry. Ogre battle lives forever more - oh oh oh~!_ ” Freddie sang dramatically.

I slowly and shakily move to stand on my feet once again before moving to my mic for the last verse of the song.

“ _You can come along! You can come along! Come to ogre battle! Fa fa fa fa faaaaaaaaa!_ ” We finished together.

The audience’s cheers are almost deafening, and I can’t help but smile as I wipe sweat from my forehead. Deaky and Roger exchange a look briefly, but Freddie breaks the tension when he converses with the crowd once again. When I look to Paul standing at the backstage, he gives me an cheerful smile and a thumbs up. I giggle again and send him a playful wink.

* * *

 

Approximately two and a half hours pass when Mott The Hoople comes to take our places on stage. Thankfully by this time, most of the high from the drug has died down a bit, although not completely. I find myself completely thirsty and dry mouthed when we’re finished, and quickly make my way to our shared dressing room. As Paul hands me a water bottle, I openly glare at him as my heart rate picks up again. Whether from anxiety or adrenaline, I’m not entirely certain.

“Y- -you gave me _ecstasy?!_ ” I hissed at him. “What the **fuck** , Paul?!”

Paul shakes his head with a broad grin and places his hands on my shoulders.

“You were great out there! They fucking loved you, Jack!” Paul assured me.

_I mean...I did play like a fucking beast out there. I slayed it. Probably one of my best performances._

“I thought you were just going t- -to give me something for a _headache!_ Paul! Why did you think giving me a drug I’ve _never_ had, before a _show_ nonetheless, was a smart idea?!” I fumed.

Paul taps gently on the lid of the water bottle.

“Drink your water, darlin’. You look pale as a sheet.” Paul instructed me. “I just wanted to help you is all. And you were goddamn _amazing_ on that stage.”

After taking another sip of water, I can’t help but feel guilty at the dejected look on Paul’s face.

“I appreciate you trying to help me, but definitely tell me what you give me next time yeah? I’d _never_ done ecstasy before. I’ve only ever smoked weed.” I warned him.

Paul gives me a silent nod just as Freddie, John, and Roger come into the room. I take my water bottle and move quickly to change behind the screen panels to avoid a conversation. Thankfully, my clothes were untouched from their place and I slip into them quietly. When I rejoin the others, I sit on a couch nearby, in a complete daze while my mind is murky and cloudy. I can barely form a proper thought. My heart _still_ felt as if it was racing, and it wasn’t a particularly good sensation.

“Did you have one of those brownies before the show? You were a bit... _out there._ ” Deaky slurred.

_Looks like you had a bit to drink, eh Deaks?_

Paul’s eyes widen slightly, before he quickly offers an excuse.

“The roadies gave her a strong cocktail or two before the show. Poor girl was nervous about filling in for Brian.” Paul chuckled breathlessly. “She asked them to bring her some drinks durin’ the show too.”

“I thought you were **magnificent** , darling.” Freddie smiled at me. “Brian would have been proud.”

For some reason, tears blur into my eyes as my anxiety picks up again. Roger can sense the change in my mood as he sits close with me on the couch.

“You alright, baby girl?” Roger mutters worriedly.

“W- -would Brian have been proud? I was so _scared_ the entire time. I didn’t miss any cues d- -did I?” I sniffled.

Roger’s eyes widen slightly before he shakes his head in an almost frantic manner.

“No! No, you were _great_ , baby girl! You were bloody _brilliant_ out there.” Roger told me.

Roger wraps an arm around my shoulders and places a loving kiss to my temple. Turning his head, Roger openly glares at Paul.

“Y’know. I don’t recall seeing any of the roadies give her a _single_ drink during the show.” He brought up.

The Irishman plays off the blonde’s hostile tone with another chuckle in an attempt to put him at ease.

“I mean, with the way she was movin’ across the stage, I can see why it’d be easy to miss it. I mean, look at John. He knocked back those drinks like it was nothin’. I’m impressed by the way.” Paul complimented Deaky.

Deaky smiles sheepishly and gives Paul a curt nod.

“I don’t know about you lot, but I rather crave a drink myself. What do we say about going to celebrate tonight? We played a damn good show.” Fred grinned. “Although, I don’t think my Brooklyn Jaybird or Deaky need anymore drinks for a bout of dancing. You two were on a roll out there.”

When Roger rubs gentle circles along the inside of my wrist, the touch is _amplified_. Instead of feeling relaxed from his light and feathery touches, I’m more alert and flurried. Again, Roger seems to pick up on these signals as he reluctantly pulls his hand away.

“Maybe a little rest would do this one some good, yeah?” Roger suggested for me.

Freddie and Deaky both share a laugh as they look at our drummer in amusement.

“You’re beginning to sound like Brian.” Deaky jokes.

Roger cracks a grin at this, and shakes his head at our bassist.

“Yeah I do, don’t I? Fuck it, let’s go out.”

* * *

 

It’s well past midnight as we spend hours at the first club Freddie spots that immediately catches his eye. I feel at complete unease as time seems to pass in blurry intervals. It’s almost unsettling. To my surprise though, Paul stays with me as he chats it up with some random people while Freddie, John, and Roger go have some fun. Although Roger is a lot more reluctant to leave me.

“Here, darlin’. I got you a special drink.” Paul winked at me.

At my hesitation, Paul laughs wholeheartedly and ruffles my hair.

“It’s okay. You’ll be perfectly fine. I won’t let _anything_ happen to you. I’ll be right here the entire time, yeah? Just take a load off and enjoy the ride. It’s a lot like the ecstasy.” Paul guaranteed.

I take the drink and sip it tentatively at first, but perk up at the sweetness. Within seconds, I down it, and earn a round of cheers from Paul and his new friends.

“Damn, she downed that like it was nothing at all!” A man guffawed.

Minutes pass before I move to stand up as a sudden urge courses through me. I pat my pockets for change before telling Paul that I’m going to make a brief phone call. I go outside to a random payphone, ignoring the party-goers as I stumble past them. My vision blurs as I struggle to put the coins in the slot, and dial a familiar phone number that I memorized by heart.

“ **_This better be fucking good. It is currently one in the goddamn morning and I have to get up at 6 AM for work!_ **”

I grin happily and lean casually against the payphone.

“Jo! It’s so fuckin’ awesome to hear you again. I know I called ya a while ago but...I miss ya.” I slurred into the phone.

“ **_Jack? What are you doing calling me so late?_ **” My sister chuckled.

“Yer my twin, so you **have** to answer! It’s an obli…. _obligation_.” I garbled drunkenly.

“ **_Well I answered. So what’s going on? Where are you partying at tonight?_ **” Jolene asked.

A giggle slips past my lips.

“I’m back in New York, in Manhattan! Can you believe that?”

Jolene’s breath hitches on the line.

“ **_Wait. You’re_ ** **_here_ ** **_? Why didn’t you call sooner? How’s everything going? Fucking hell, Jack._ **”

“We’ve been touring the U.S. a lil bit. Supporting act for Mott The Hoople. You ‘member them right?” I brought up.

“ **_Right. Yeah, you mentioned that. So you’re in New York then? How long? You bet your little ass that I’m going to see you before you have to leave! Oh this is great! Allen was looking forward to seeing you again too!_ **” Jolene happily spoke.

I tense up from the mention of our older brother. Jolene takes notice of this from my silence.

“ **_Listen. Things haven’t been easy for him either. He told me that it took him a long time before he landed himself a good job. By then, we already moved out…_ ** ” Jolene muttered. “ **_He’s a journalist now. Can you believe that? And he wrote a piece about you too. About Queen. I can show the clipping to you when you come visit._ **”

I pause and shut my eyes, feeling the effects of the drink, or rather, the _drug_ that was definitely in it.

“ **_Jack? You there?_ **” Jolene mumbled softly.

“Y- -yeah. I’m here, Jo.” I breathed out. “God, I...I don’ feel too great, actually.”

“ **_You’re with your friends right? With Fred, Brian, Roger, and John?_ **”

“Bri’s sick...had to miss out on the show tonight….I- -I fuckin’ _nailed_ it though, sis. You woulda been proud of me.” I hummed happily.

“ **_I already am proud. You’ve been doing so well for yourself since you left. You’re putting your name out there. I miss you though._ **”

I reopen my eyes and nearly keel over as my vision swims.

“I miss you too... _so fuckin’ much_. Wish ya woulda come with me.” I whimpered.

“ **_I’m not as brave as you are, Jackie...I wish I was though. You’re living the dream and I’m just...some fucking loser working three part time jobs to support myself._ **” Jolene sighed.

“It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, Jo. Shit hasn’ been the same without you- -” I started.

“ **_Yeah...I know. How’s your anxiety been going? I know it gets hard...believe me. We’re in the same boat. It’s not as bad as yours, but...I’ve been coping better. I got myself a good therapist. How about you, Jack?_ **”

I groan lightly as I slump into the payphone. I can hear people walking past me and tense up.

“S- -sorry.” I muttered. “I’ve been...doin’ fine. Y’know how it all goes- -”

“ **_And I take it that you haven’t been seeing anyone right? Look. Not all doctors are the same. You’ve just gotta keep looking and find the right one, you know? Don’t let one bad experience pull you down._ **” Jolene argued.

“Honestly, I haven’ even had the _time_ anymore. I’ve been so busy with the band and we’re already working on our next album to release it in November. I just try to keep busy, so I...I don’ think ‘bout it. It just comes and goes.”

“ **_Jack, wherever you are, I think you need to go back inside and find your friends alright? You don’t sound too hot and it’s really fucking late. Call me back tomorrow. We can make plans before you have to leave._ **” Jolene muttered worriedly.

“Alright...yeah.”

“ **_Call me back and leave a message when you make it safely for the night, you hear? I’m serious._ **” Jolene warned me.

“I will.” I smiled faintly. “Love you, Jo.”

“ **_I love you too, Jackie. Be safe._ **”

I hang up just as I fall to my knees, hissing as I scrape my head against something. I sit against the payphone and look around while my mind is completely foggy. I can’t think to even _move_ as I lazily turn my head and look up at a street light nearby. It looked so pretty.

“Jack?!”

Closing my eyes, I giggle softly as something grabs at my face. I sluggishly bat their hands away.

“Go ‘way. I’m jus’ restin’ my eyes.” I mumbled.

“For fuck’s sake. I jus’ wanted a smoke.” He rasps. “God, yer heavier than I thought. C’mon, Jack. Work with me. Lean in!”

I open my eyes and wince as the light hits my eyes harshly. Deaky looks down at me as his arms are wrapped tightly around my waist. I attempt to stand up with John, and lean into his body. I can smell the alcohol on his breath as my face falls into his neck.

“What the bloody hell are you even doin’ out here by yerself?” Deaky spluttered nervously.

“I...I want...wanted to hear my sister’s voice.” I respond.

I wrap my arms around Deaky into a tight hug and inhale deeply.

“God, you smell _lovely_.” I commented. “You can smoke your fag if ya want, sorry for distractin’ ya…”

I move to lean against the brick wall right next to the entrance as I pull my lighter out from my back pocket. Deaky blinks tiredly as he fumbles in his pockets to pull out a pack of cigarettes. After grabbing one, he slips the carton back into his pocket before lighting up the fag with practiced ease. I put my lighter away and smile at Deaky while I play with his long hair.

Exhaling smoke from his mouth, Deaky glances at me with confusion and amusement. His lips are quirking up as I start braiding a strand of his hair. He playfully rolls his eyes and turns to look away as he takes another drag of his cig. Minutes of silence pass before Deaky drops the remainder of the fag and crushes it underneath his shoe.

“Wanna go dance wit’ me?” Deaky smirked.

“Fuck yeah.” I giggled. “Yer so fun, Deaks…”

My reaction is slow as Deaky pulls me by the hand and drags me back into the bar. I can spot Freddie dancing with random people in the middle of the dance floor. I don’t pay attention to anyone else but Deaky as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and sway with him despite the fact that the song playing is more fast paced. Deaky doesn’t seem to mind as he spins us lightly.

“Y’know...this bar reminds me of the one we met at. I felt like such a tosser for...for basically insultin’ you!” John shouted over the music.

“Ha! It does, don’t it?” I nodded in agreement. “The decor is the only thing that’s different...”

“Did you miss bein’ back here?” Deaky asked.

“I mean _yeah_. I was born and raised here, man.” I laughed.

“You wan’ another pint? I think I might have one before I head back to the hotel.” Deaky proposed.

“I’ll probably regret it, but I’m all for it.” I responded enthusiastically.

When the two of us order another drink, Deaky nurses it in his hand as we both sit down at an empty booth nearby.

“Jack, can I ask you something?”

I nod absently as I attempt to focus on John. He’s wearing a somber expression. It has me concerned immediately.

“How do you know if someone is... _the_ one?” Deaky asked.

I place my hand on top of Deaky’s in comfort and reassurance.

“I mean, I don’t think I can answer that personally. Are we talkin’ ‘bout Veronica? She’s a sweet girl, and the two of you have been dating for what? Four years? Five?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I... _fuck_ . I think I might ask her to marry me. I _really_ love her.” John confessed.

My eyes widen at the delicate subject of marriage, but joy overwhelms my very being. John was like the little brother I never had, and the youngest band member wormed his way quickly into my heart fairly quickly. I knew I would support him with almost anything. John was adorable and he _knew_ it too. Just like Roger was aware of how much of a heart throb he could be with his charm and looks.

_Why am I thinking about Roger right now?_

“John. You two are _nuts_ about each other and it’s obvious that hasn’t changed. It’s rare, but...I think you guys are p- -pra...practically _destined_ to be together.” I stumbled. “V- -Veronica is one of the sweetest women I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowin’ an’ you two complement each other so _well_. It was like a- -a match made in heaven.”

John’s eyes brim with tears as he gives me the warmest smile.

“I thought you didn’t like Veronica. You nearly scared her when you guys first met.” He teased.

“Deaks! That was ages ago! Who do you think I hang out with aside from Mary? I love Ronnie!” I giggled.

“I’m sorry, that was _stupid_ of me to say.” Deaky playfully rolled his eyes. “But you’re right. I won’t find anyone else like her. You really think we were meant to be?”

“Fuck yeah, I do!” I nod frantically.

I hold up my glass and clink it with Deaky’s.

“To true love.” I winked at him.

“Thank you, Jack.” He mumbled softly.

He raises his glass, and together, the two of us chug down our drinks.

* * *

 

I wake up in my hotel room sleeping in the clothes from last night. There’s a loud pounding on the door that seems to grow incessantly louder as seconds tick by. With a groan, I give in and stumble off the bed to go open the door. Roger’s standing there with wide eyes, practically panting as if he’d been running.

“Where’s Prenter?” Roger questioned.

“Wha- -? What’s wrong, Rog?” I yawned.

“Brian’s not looking good. He looks sick like... _before._ ” Roger breathes out. “I found him passed out on the bathroom floor this morning. Moved him to his bed, but he looks terrible, Jack!”

I become more alert, more sober, upon hearing about Brian’s condition. Roger looks _scared_ , and that’s enough to wake me the fuck up.

“You go find Paul and the boys. I’ll check on Bri and call for an ambulance.” I blurt out nervously.

Without thinking, I start heading to Brian’s room, a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Brian lays on the bed, pale and shaking despite the thin layer of sweat suggesting otherwise. I press my hand to his extremely warm forehead, and his eyes flutter open from the touch.

“J- -Jack? That you, baby?” He moaned lightly. “F- -fuck...I’m not...not feelin’ too great…”

“It’s okay, Bri. You’ll be okay, honey.” I murmured softly.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I take off my hair tie and reach around Brian. I grab at his long curly hair, and pull it up into a bun so his thick locks don’t fall over his face. Brian nearly sighs in relief and cries, but I shush him gently as I grab the phone and dial the number for an ambulance. In this time, I speak with the operator on the phone and give her as many details as I can while I observe Brian. It was upsetting to see him in so much pain.

“Bri, it’s gonna be alright. We’re getting you help right now. They’re on their way.” I assured him.

“Help? Whaaaaat, don’ be ‘diculous. ‘M fiiinne.” Brian slurred.

Thinking quickly, I dial another phone number and wait patiently. I can hear Brian shuffle behind me, his eyes half lidded as he mumbles incoherently.

“ **_Hello? Jolene speaking._ **”

“Hey, Jo. I know it’s early, and I’m sorry.” I sighed.

“ **_....you can’t make it today, can you?_ **” Jolene muttered sadly.

“Brian’s sick. _Really sick_. Like, I just called for an ambulance kind of sick. I just wanted to let you know in case I don’t get to call you for a while, but I already have the feeling our tour has just been cut short.” I replied.

Brian wraps an arm around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Mmmm….who’re you talkin’ to, baby?” Brian mumbled.

“ **_Damn, you’re right. He doesn’t sound too great. I thought he was with that girl Chrissie? What’s he callin’ you baby for?_ **” Jolene chuckled nervously.

“I mean Roger fucking calls me _baby girl_. I’m honestly used to it at this point. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve been called.” I shrugged. “Bri’s just a bit delusional right now.”

When Brian giggles, I can feel my heart flutter at the sound.

 _Damn you, Brian Harold May, you are fucking_ **_adorable_ ** _._

“Hi! You must be Jooooleeeene!” Brian shouted happily at the phone.

“ **_Hi Brian. I really hope you feel better soon, as I have yet to meet my sister’s closest friends._ **” Jolene replied with a chuckle.

“Aw, yer so sweet. Thank you, luv.” Brian cooed.

“ **_Okay fuck. That was just adorable. Look, I’ll let you go Jack. Just send me a letter soon, yeah? Or call me. Whichever is more convenient. I’ve gotta get to work._ **” Jolene blurted out.

I find myself nodding as I grip the phone tightly.

“Yeah. I just...I’m really sorry. I know it’s been a long time, and...I really wanted to see you, I swear- -” I stammered.

“ **_Don’t worry about it. Just keep in touch with me. Let me know the next time you’re back in the city. Whether if it’s for a tour, or just because you can._ **”

“Of course.” I murmured softly. “I love you. T...tell Allen I said hi.”

Without another word, I hear the line click before going dead, and hang up the phone. Brian lightly snores as his eyes are shut, and I quickly turn around to wake him up.

“You can’t fall asleep on me, Bri. I- -I’m sorry.” I splutter nervously.

As his eyes flutter open, pained moan spill from his lips until all that leaves are soft whimpers. I hold Brian to my chest and rub his back soothingly, as he buries his face into my neck and grips my waist tightly.

“Hey. The ambulance is here, the medics are on their way up.” Roger said.

I glance to see Deaky standing in the doorway as he watches out for the paramedics, while Freddie and Roger come approach the bed.

“Brian, darling, you’re going to have to let go of Jackie. There are people on their way here to help you feel better.” Freddie told him.

“N...no. It h- -hurts.” Brian cried.

I blink away tears as I gently try to ease Brian off of me, he just clings tighter.

“Brian _please_ . You have us scared to death, you’re **not** okay right now.” I blurt out.

“Jack...baby...I don’ wanna…” Brian whined.

As the paramedics come into the room with Paul, I smooth Brian’s hair back as I gesture for them to come closer with one hand.

“We’re gonna get you some help, Brian. Make everything feel better.” I assured him. “Now you’ve gotta let go of me, alright?”

Upon hearing the choked sound Brian makes, I clench my eyes shut and will away tears. Freddie and Roger help me move Brian into a sitting position on the bed again, as the paramedics get a stretcher laid out onto the floor.

“It’s alright, Bri. Everything’s going to be _just fine_.” Roger guaranteed.

“Rog…” Brian breathed out. “I don’ feel good…”

It takes minutes before Brian is being carried out on the stretcher, and all four of us move quickly to follow Brian out. My heart flutters nervously, my hands trembling at my sides as the ambulance pulls away with Brian inside. I quickly hail a taxi with a sharp whistle, surprising all of the boys as one pulls over to the side almost immediately. Without looking back, the boys and I shuffle inside the taxi, and follow the ambulance to the nearest hospital.

* * *

_November, 1974…_

 

Upon the release of our album, Sheer Heart Attack, John had announced his engagement to Veronica. With Brian out of the hospital again after being treated for _hepatitis_ of all things, he also revealed _his_ engagement to Chrissie. For some reason, it stung even more hearing it come out of his mouth instead of Roger’s. Part of me wondered why Roger was so concerned about Brian’s engagement, and also why he insisted that we were _good_ for each other. I honestly couldn’t see the logic. Especially when Brian moved out of the flat not long after our return from the US.

Slowly, I came to realize how I was becoming more dependent on Paul to constantly make me feel better. I found myself becoming more nervous before going on stage sober, when I realized how amazing my performances were whenever I was high. It was like a creative fuse went off in my brain, and I felt more energetic and _alive_. Paul was introducing me to all sorts of things I was never exposed to before, but I found myself incredibly thankful for his help. Paul was always happy to help me, and we often had such great times together whenever either of us had the free time.

Freddie often commented at random times how I was more outgoing, _positively glowing_ , than I previously was, while John and Roger were more silent and reserved regarding the topic. I could tell they were holding themselves back about how they truly felt on the subject, but they visibly showed their distaste in Paul Prenter whenever he stuck around. Paul also moved up from being our manager’s assistant, to becoming a manager himself. I couldn’t help but be happy for him.

“You alright, Deaks? You look about _really_ narked, mate.” Roger commented.

We pause our game of Scrabble as John reads a letter, or rather, glares heatedly at the paper. Within seconds, he crumbles it up and tosses it away in anger.

“They fucking **rejected** me. Bloody bastards. They can get Fred a _new fucking piano_ , but heaven forbid I try and invest money into a house! It’s not like I’m getting _married_ soon or anything!” John snapped.

Roger and I exchange a brief look of worry.

“Well...shit. That’s just a lot to unpack there.” Roger muttered.

“Bunch of tossers! The fucking lot of them! This is _bollocks!_ ” John exploded.

“I feel like the roles are reversed here.” I chuckled breathlessly. “You sure Roger didn’t lend you some of his anger?”

“Sod off, Jack.” He grumbled.

“Now, why are you bringing me into this?” Roger whined. “I didn’t even do anything this time.”

Ignoring Roger, I turn to Deaky and place my hand on top of his. It's hard to be positive at a time like this, but with John looking so defeated, I knew I had to try. I hated seeing any of the boys in such distress, it just upset me.

“Listen, I know things are tough right now, but I’m sure you and Ronnie will find a place soon. It’s just gonna take a little time.” I assured him.

“You’re right...I’m sorry.” John sighed. “All of this is so frustrating. They just upped our wages too, can you believe the nerve of those bastards? After everything we’ve accomplished so far- -”

_You have no idea Deaky..._

“I know. I completely agree with you.” I nodded. “We’ll figure something out though. Get ourselves a lawyer or something.”

“And do what?” Roger scoffed. “We can’t just leave Trident. Believe me, I share all of your frustrations but I don’t see who else we could turn to!”

_But we have to...I'm running out of time._

My mind begins to race as I clench my eyes shut, panic and dread suddenly coursing through my very being. From the many thoughts of ‘what-ifs’ to ‘what are we going to do?’, I find myself at a loss of words. I was _scared_ , not only because we were in debt that kept increasing, but because these changes were happening so quickly. If we couldn’t support ourselves financially, how could we progress with the band financially as well?

_Fuck...if I don’t have work here...I’ll get deported...my visa is almost expired. Plus I’ve already been contacted about it..._

“Hey. You alright?”

I open my eyes and look at Roger with a weary expression.

“I mean...not really.” I admitted.

“You look like someone killed a puppy in front of you.” John commented.

“I mean...if we can’t even support ourselves...the band is done for.” I pointed out.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, sweetheart. What’s _really_ bothering you?” Roger scoffed.

“Roger. I just fucking said what was bothering me. If we don’t find a solution, the band is done.” I sighed heavily.

Roger and John, still quite not understanding where I was going with this, wait for me to continue.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I rolled my eyes before elaborating. “Guys, if I don’t have work here, I’m getting deported. My visa is almost expired and I don’t think the _right of abode_ will work for me…”

I reach into my bra and shakily pull out a joint before lighting it up. I refuse to meet the gazes of my two friends as they stare at me with utter concern. I know they have a lot of questions, but I’m not in the mood for it. I’m already anxious and terrified enough as it is. I didn’t have all the answers this time.

“When were you going to tell us about this?” John’s voice shook.

Trembling in my seat, I take another hit of my joint as I focus on ridding myself of my nerves. I wanted to keep a level head, to try and come up with a solution. Although, with the way things were going in my life lately, it was extremely hard to keep my chin up. I can already feel the anxiety gnawing at my stomach the more I thought about the possibility of deportation.

“Well, I was hoping I’d be able to delay it as long as I could. I thought that as long as I had the band, I’d have a personal tie here regarding my work. The band was my income after all.” I sighed. “I don’t have anything else to keep me here, I don’t have family that lives here, or a direct tie to England…”

Blinking away tears, I have another long drag of my joint as I barely hold back a sob. Exhaling a shaking breath, I can already feel my bottom lip quiver.

 _How did things get_ **_this_ ** _bad? How did_ **_I_ ** _fuck up so badly?_

“I’m so _fucked._ I- -I don’t wanna leave. I **love** you guys...you’re my _family_.”

“Hey...look at me. Look at _us_.” Roger muttered softly.

After another drag, I glance up at Roger sadly. The blonde looks completely heartbroken.

“We will **not** let that happen. Especially not to you. We just...you’re _right_ . We need to find a new label, get ourselves a lawyer. We _can’t_ give up. Not when everything is on the line here. It’s not just our careers at stake now.” Roger’s voice trembled softly.

 _I don’t think there’s an actual solution. If I don’t have_ **_anything_ ** _tying me here, I’m fucked. I’m getting deported._

I take another hit, before passing it to Roger with a faint smile.

“Who are we kidding here? I’ll just hold you guys back.” I chuckled dryly.

“Jack. A- -are you just going to leave the band then? You _can’t!_ Not w- -when we’re getting recognition! Y- -you **have** to stay!” John stuttered.

“I might have to, Deaks. Not because I _want_ to though. I don’t really think I have a choice in the matter. If I can’t provide reason to stay here, I’ll be...sent back. My visa is practically expired now.” I mumbled softly.

“But my wedding...it’s in two months, you can’t just- -” Deaky stammered.

“I just said that I don’t **want** to leave, but let’s face the facts. Trident is fucking with us, draining us dry of everything that we have like a bunch of leeches. We’re _broke_.” I cried. “We can barely afford food, our funds are so low… they’re fucking using and exploiting us!”

Roger blinks away tears of his own, and silently passes the joint over to Deaky.

“So we just- -we come up with a _solution!_ We find another label, like you were just saying! We’ll talk to Fred about it tomorrow, I know he’s as pissed with Trident as much as we are! He wants to walk too!” Deaky spluttered nervously.

John wipes furiously at his eyes as he takes a long hit and holds in the smoke.

“What if you applied for citizenship here? What would you need to do?” Roger blurted out.

“I can only live here if I have someone connecting me to the UK since my visa is almost expired. And it’s all because of the Immigration Act of ‘71. I got a phone call about it a while ago... I’m gonna...gonna get _deported_ soon.” I breathed out. “Oh my God… _how_ did I delay this for so long?”

John takes another drag before passing the joint to me. Roger, surprising all of us, gets out of his chair and drops to the floor on one knee. At first, it doesn’t register in my mind what’s happening. I honestly thought Roger was perhaps moving to tie his shoe, until I see his eyes locked on me the entire time with such intensity. John’s eyes widen drastically as he coughs out smoke, and normally, I would have been laughing at the scene.

“Rog? What’re you doin’?” I gasped.

Roger’s face is completely flushed as he gently grabs my hand, placing a loving kiss on top of my knuckles.

“Look. This is just...j- -just a temporary solution.” Roger supplied. “If I had to be bound to someone, I’d want it to be _you_ because you’re my best mate. Jacqueline Louise Walker, will you marry me?”

My breath catches in my throat while my heartbeat hammers loudly in my ears. Roger looks completely serious, and it’s so out of character for him. At first I’m wondering what the hell Roger is thinking until it becomes a bit more obvious. He wants to marry me so I have a _direct_ connection to England, so that I can _stay_ here in this country. It’s probably the sweetest gesture anyone has ever done for me.

“R- -Roger, you can’t be serious. Think about what you’re doing.” I warned.

“I know what’s at risk if you _leave_. We can’t let you go, baby girl. Queen needs you.” Roger barely uttered.

_Just Queen? Or just you?_

His thumbs both rub gently along my knuckles as he patiently waits for my answer.

“Listen, if you say yes, we can work out terms. We can just stay engaged until we’re with a new label and maybe we can use that uh... _right of abode_ crap and you’ll probably have reason enough to stay here in good ol’ England. Or...we _actually_ get married, and...and stay together for the sake of the group, so you can't get deported.” Roger suggested.

“You’re asking me to **_marry_ **you so that I can stay with Queen? So I can live here?” I utter in disbelief.

“I’m already down on my knee and everything.” Roger smirked. “Y’know most girls would be _jumping_ at this opportunity.”

At his attempt in humor, I can’t help but let out a small laugh. Shaking my head fondly at my room mate, I bite on my bottom lip as I barely hold back a smile.

“Well...I’m not like those other girls. Crazy American woman and all that.” I joked.

“You’re right about that...you’re not a girl.” Roger winked playfully. “But...you could be _mine_ . **My** Crazy American woman.”

 _Holy shit, he’s_ **_actually_ ** _serious about this. How’s he so calm about it?!_

I hand the joint back over to Deaky. He gladly takes it as he watches us with anticipation, almost like he’s watching a soap opera on television.

“Lookie here, Roger Meddows Taylor. If we’re seriously considering  _marriage_ while we’re fucking high, I’ve got some conditions.” I smile warmly at him.

While Roger’s eyes twinkle with mischief, he also doesn’t bother hiding the grin on his lips.

“Name your terms, baby girl.”

“This marriage would be strictly to stay in this country to work with you all. To be with Queen.” I started.

Roger nods in agreement.

“Anything else?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because...I’m not exactly hearing a _no_.”

“I was getting to that. I don’t want us to change because of this. I want us to be the way we are now. You’re one of my best friends. That means, you can be with whoever you want. I _refuse_ to tie you down.” I continued.

Again, Roger takes my words into consideration, and nods once again.

“...anything else?” He breathed out.

I blink away tears and shake my head.

“I want you to know how grateful and thankful I am to you. I want you to know that forever and always. No matter what happens, you’re always my best friend. It’s us against the world.” I confessed.

Roger’s eyes glisten with tears upon hearing me say this, and he nods frantically.

“Yeah. Us against the world. Couldn’t have phrased it better myself, luv. So...will you marry me?”

“For the sake of keeping our band together and becoming rock legends, _fuck yeah_.” I laughed.

Roger stands abruptly before pulling me out of my seat. He presses a loving kiss to my forehead and embraces me.

“Well that’s one problem solved, eh?” Roger joked.

Hearing a sniffle nearby, we look at John, who’s practically weeping in his seat. There’s a cloud of smoke surrounding him, as well as all of us. Roger and I can’t help but laugh at John as we both surround him with a hug on each side to comfort him.

_Jesus Christ, how much did he have to smoke? Silly Deaky._

* * *

 

Roger and I keep our marriage a secret from everyone after the events that took place in our kitchen, except for Deaky of course, considering he’d witnessed the whole proposal. It was a tricky subject, one that the two of us absolutely loathe discussing during our free time. Whether we wanted to be public or secretive about our marriage when the time came. I honestly didn’t care about what the media thought, not since that one bad review on our first album.

Roger, however, was a bit on the fence. He was conflicted. Part of him wanted to say ‘fuck you’ to the media, but he also didn’t want the publicity of this to affect the band negatively. Viewing it from that perspective was understandable. For now, we would keep quiet about our marriage.

The finalization of our marriage took place early one morning with John being our witness, and the drive wasn’t as terrible as we’d thought it would be. Roger was the most quiet I’d ever seen except for when he was cued to repeat after the judge, but he wouldn’t stop smiling. It was a simple ceremony at the Church of England and it was perfect because no one recognized us. Due to certain laws, I had to take Roger’s last name, but I did so with pride. It was also the first time that Roger and I had officially kissed, even though it was for the ceremony, and it was so chaste and _sweet_ , so unlike Roger’s fiery personality.

For the most part, our friendship had remained the same, the two of us close in bond. Roger still flirted and chased after girls after our shows while we were on our Sheer Heart Attack tour. I also continued to go about my business like usual, and had several one night stands as well. It was almost bizarre how _normal_ things still were between us, as if nothing was wrong whatsoever.

Even as I sit here in a random cafe with Fred, my mind still drifts to Roger and our official marriage. It was sweet, but also scandalous at the same time. It was almost miraculous that no one had caught wind of this quite yet. Despite the fact that I was legally Mrs. Jacqueline Taylor on paper, I still referred to myself as Jacqueline Louise Walker.

“Wait, you want to make a costume design from a _wedding dress?_ ” I raised an eyebrow.

I look at the designs Freddie has down on paper.

“If we can acquire a dress that’s big enough, I could make a good... _three_ outfits out of it.” Freddie explained. “It would look goddamn beautiful!”

I glance down at the sleeves of each shirt, and find that it looks _elegant_ . It’s the opposite of what you would think rockstars would wear. It was practically **perfect** for Queen.

“It’s great, Fred.” I sincerely told him. “It’s just as brilliant as that crest you made for the band last year. I love it.”

Freddie smiles brightly and presses a kiss to my cheek.

“I knew you would see it my way, dear. You're just as creative as I am after all.”

As Freddie and I make our way outside, he grabs my hand and ceases walking.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something, darling. You’ve been on edge lately, asking Paul for more drugs although you think no one has noticed. Is there something that you might need to tell me? You know I’ll help you with anything.” Freddie lowered his voice.

I can’t help but freeze at his accusing yet concerned tone, and let out a deep sigh as I squeeze his hand.

_I mean, I love you Freddie, but I don’t think I can tell you about marrying Roger just yet._

“Things have just been stressful lately. We need to leave Trident and find a new label. I just don’t know where to start.” I muttered.

“That’s it?” Freddie chuckled. “I thought it was something more serious, dear!”

“I mean, it **is** serious, Fred.” I scoffed. “It’s absolutely serious. We’re dirt ass poor and they’re profiting off of us! Despite that they’ve taken almost all our money, they want _more!_ ”

Freddie pauses at my last statement, and I can already tell from the distant look on his face, that he’s already conjuring up lyrics for a song. He quickly snaps out of it though, and grabs my hand before placing a loving kiss to my knuckles.

“Oh don’t you worry, lovie. I already have someone looking into our contract with Trident. I have a feeling that this won’t be an issue for much longer.” Fred assured me.

I sigh in complete relief as I smile at Fred.

“Thank the fucking lord.” I breathed out. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?! I’ve been a fucking nervous wreck about this entire thing! Are you talking about that Jim Beach guy? I like him. Heard you on the phone with him the other day and- -”

“Jacqueline! Relax!” Freddie laughed.  
“Sorry...I was rambling wasn’t I?” I smile sheepishly.

“Quite a bit I’d say. Now let’s get going, we’ve got work to do.”

* * *

_November 20th, 1974..._

 

For the past week or so, I had been feeling a bit off, like something was incredibly wrong. Although, I had no idea what the cause was. The sensation was one of complete dread and agony, one that settled deeply in the pit of my stomach. My anxiety was especially bad during this time, and I actually had several of those episodes. 

Freddie, Brian, Roger, and John had no idea how to help me no matter how hard they all tried. So, I sought comfort from other sources when I couldn’t get a hold of Jolene, which was almost all the time as of late. I wasn’t sure if she was mad at me, or if she was in trouble. This trepidation had resulted in spending more time with Paul and his crowd of questionable friends as of late, much to Roger’s disappointment.  

“Did you have fun at the party last night?” Roger asked.

Roger and I lounge on the couch together as we sip our coffee. I was actually surprised that I had managed to sleep in past noon today. Although, I felt much more rested.

“I mean, I can tell _you_ did if those hickeys are any indication.” I smirked.

Roger chuckles breathlessly as he inches closer to me on the couch, draping his arm casually on the cushion behind me.

“Are you jealous, Mrs. Taylor?”

“Oh don’t you pull that Mrs. Taylor shit with me.” I laughed.

“You don’t like it? _I do._ ” He teased.

My smile falters, and I absolutely hate bringing us back to reality. I didn’t know why, but I deeply enjoyed when Roger playfully teased me with our married titles.

_But then I remember what Roger married me for...to help out a friend._

“You already know why we did this. I _told_ you why, Rog.” I sighed. “It was your idea in the first place remember?”

Roger averts his gaze temporarily as he takes another sip from his mug.

“I know. I just...it’s easy to forget sometimes. You’re my best friend.” He mumbled softly.

I can feel my heart melting as Roger says this to me, and place my hand on his thigh.

“Roger...do we need to talk about this? Like, a- -are you having second thoughts? We can go get an annulment right now. It’s only been at least two weeks.” I told him.

Roger’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he makes direct eye contact.

“No. Don’t...you _need_ this.” Roger quickly replied.

“I told you I don’t want things to change between us. I don’t want to lose you…” I barely uttered.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles faintly.

“You could never lose me, baby girl.” He assured.

_He’s so confusing..._

As he leans in, I watch him with bated breath. Technically, there was nothing stopping me from pursuing Roger. Despite legally being married, it felt like I was somehow crossing dangerous waters just considering the idea of... _being_ with Roger intimately. Last time, it was because I was dating Brian and I had a strict no cheating policy, as everyone in their right mind should.

Although, now with Brian engaged to Chrissie, what was stopping me now? Was it because Roger was one of my best friends and I cared about him, or was it because of professional courtesy? If word got around that I had dated not just one, but two members of our band, how would it look? Then again, when have I _ever_ cared about what the media thought of me? I was fucking _married_ to Roger already.

Roger pauses just as our lips are barely grazing, and I can’t help but feel completely _intoxicated_ as our breath mingles together. His normally blue eyes, are not only overcome with lust, but also what appeared to be awe. His hand trails up my arm, then my neck, until it reaches my face and cups my cheek. I feel my eyes flutter as I quiver against him.

“Listen…” I murmured. “I….I know it’s a bit weird...but I want you to have something.”

Roger chuckles breathlessly, his lips just barely brushing against mine as he does so.

“You sure it can’t wait?” He rasped.

I smile faintly at him.

“I know that if I _don’t_ do it now, I probably won’t later.”

I reach into my pocket, pulling out my family heirloom, the pocket watch my mother had gifted me that belonged to my great-great grandparents with the Ursa Minor constellation engraved on it. I gently pull Roger’s hand from my face, before placing it into his palm.

“It’s just weird that...we’re married, and I’m _still_ not used to it. I felt terrible that I couldn’t get you an actual ring, but...I decided that you could still have a piece of me with you, y’know? I’ve probably only ever showed this thing to Brian, but this is a family heirloom of mine. Made out of pure solid gold. It’s been in my family for generations and it was the last gift I ever got from my ma before she....”

I trace my fingers over the top of the watch fondly.

“Anyway, the Ursa Minor was in my great-great grandparents view when...they got engaged. And I want _you_ to have it. I put it on a necklace chain so you could wear it, unless you’d rather just keep it in your room or something- -”

I’m silenced as Roger finally closes the distance, crashing our lips together in a heated frenzy. When he bites and licks his way into my mouth, I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and thread my fingers into his hair. Our coffee forgotten on the coffee table, Roger crawls on top of me on the couch. Parting my legs, he moves closer, a whine escaping his lips when he rolls his hips into my core. I tug at his hair, loving the choked moan that follows when I pull his head away until his face hovers just an inch from mine.

“You like it then?” I mutter nervously.

“I fucking _love_ it, baby girl.” He breathed.

“ _Phew_ , what a fucking relief that is.” I joked airily.

Roger can’t help the smile that forms on his face, and presses a feathery light kiss to my mouth. Peeling himself off of me, he turns around after giving me the pocket watch.

“Here. Put it on me, would you?” Roger asked.

I comply and get to it, being careful of his hair and brushing the long blonde stands to the side as I hook the long chain around his neck. Before pulling back, I hug him from behind, allowing my hands to roam to his chest through his shirt. I adore the sigh that falls from his mouth as he visibly relaxes against me.

“You excited for tonight, Rog? Playing at the Rainbow back in March was so much fun, wasn’t it?”

I smile against his neck before pressing a kiss on his warm and soft skin.

“Yeah, I love our song set. I think the crowd will enjoy it.” Roger chuckled.

“I’m thinking about getting my hair curled before the show. Maybe add some highlights.” I told him.

“With your light red hair? Sounds beautiful, luv.” He commented. “We might wanna get a move on then, eh? We’ve only got six hours before the car comes to pick us all up.”

_We? Why is he being such a damn sweetheart?_

“You read my mind.” I agreed.

I squeeze Roger with one last hug, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek before I pull back. I grab my coffee mug, downing the rest of it as I make my way to the kitchen. Just when I get to the sink, I can hear Roger padding quietly into the kitchen. I find myself smiling as Roger wraps his arms around my waist, his erection becoming prominent when he pressed his hips firmly against my back side.

I tilt my head as his lips make contact with my shoulder, giving him better access as he gradually moves onto suck harshly on the skin just below my ear. I arch my back as his hand travels up my body. Once his hand fondles one of my breasts and squeezes gently, a whimper falls freely from my mouth. The other hand on my hips finally moves to travel down, before slipping into my shorts.

“ _Fuck._ Are you seriously not wearing underwear?” Roger groaned.

I grind back on his cock and enjoy the hitch of his breath.

“I sleep naked. This was just the first thing I grabbed when I woke up.” I admitted.

“ _Oh bugger_ , please tell me you’re not jus’ pulling my leg?” He whined lowly.

I twist out his hold and spin around to face him just as he crashes his lips to mine.

 _God damn. Yup...Roger_ **_should_ ** _be considered illegal to women everywhere._

I breathe heavily as I card one of my hands through his hair, tugging hard on the strands to pull him away from my lips once again. I shudder against him upon hearing the whimper that falls from his lips.

“As much as I would **love** to continue this, we really _do_ have a tight schedule. It’s already almost 2:00, Rog. We really slept in today.” I smiled sadly.

“Y- -yeah. I’ll just uh….get ready in a few minutes. T- -then I’ll drive you.” Roger breathed.

_Oh God damn it all. He really knows how to make me feel bad._

Before Roger can pull away, I quickly wrap my arms around his neck.

“Okay, _shit._ I feel bad.” I chuckled breathlessly. “Look uh...if you can be quick, you can just...”

Roger moans as I grind down on his cock, and hastily backs me right back into the kitchen counter again. Once more, his hands move to travel along my body, before eventually making their way to grab at my ass. He pushes my pelvis against his trapped length, and presses his mouth hotly to my jaw.

“Can you feel what you do to me?” Roger rasped.

_Oh shit. Yup...I can certainly feel it now._

I whine lowly and quickly hitch a leg around his waist before moving over to suck on his pulse. Roger growls lowly in his throat, his hips bucking into me. He loops his arms underneath my thighs and pins me to the counter top. Grabbing my jaw almost roughly, Roger kisses me feverishly again, practically devouring my mouth as his hips drive rhythmically and skillfully against my center.

“You drive me fuckin’ _barmy_.” Roger groaned into my mouth.

I can feel the wetness pool between my thighs and grip his shirt tightly as my head spins with lust.

“I think I get the idea, but you’ve got _no_ room to talk, Mr. Taylor.” I gasped.

Roger looks down at me with a dazed grin, as he continues rocking firmly against my core.

“Yeah. We're both a bunch of teases aren't we?” He chuckled. “ _Mhmmm_...call me that again.”

He nuzzles his face into my neck, and grips my ass tightly as he forces me to move against him in tandem. I can feel pleasure coursing through my body from the friction to my clit.

“You wet for me, baby girl? You feel it yet?” He rambles breathlessly.

“Yes, Mr. Taylor.” I purred.

Roger nearly mewls as his hands grip at my hips more harshly than before, providing the leverage he needs to drive his cock hard into my center. Our breath mingles heavily together as I press my forehead to his, lips barely brushing against each other. I can tell just from his desperate movements that Roger is close to orgasm, and glance at the clock along the wall nervously.

_How did thirty minutes already pass? We were just here not that long ago...or so it felt like. How can it already be almost 2:30?_

Another whine escapes, and I find myself growing lightheaded as the tempo of his thrusts increases. I thread my fingers into his hair, enjoying the reaction I receive from Roger as he lets out another whine.

 _So he_ **_really_ ** _likes hair pulling. I’ll have to use that to my advantage._

Pressing a light kiss to his mouth, I then lower my mouth to his ear.

“That’s it, Roggie. You can do it.” I cooed. “Can you cum for me, baby? Cum for me right now, Rog. You know what I want.”

Suddenly, with one loud cry, he does just that. His hips stutter as he comes to a finish, his orgasm ripping through him. Roger buries his face into my neck as he rides it out, and I massage the back of his neck lightly as I murmured words of encouragement. He slowly releases my hips, placing me back down onto the floor, although none of us really move from our spot in the kitchen. Finally I pull back and cup his cheeks with my hands, taking note of how utterly blissed out as well as _flushed_ Roger seems.

“You alright, Rog?” I asked.

“I jus’ came in my jocks like a fuckin’ teenager, Jack. I, am both embarrassed _and_ perfectly alright at the same time.” Roger muttered weakly.

I can’t help but laugh softly at Roger’s defeated tone.

“Rog, you sound so _whipped_.” I giggled.

“Well considering how fuckin’ _bonkers_ you’ve made me for you, I’d rightfully say so.” Roger sighed.

_Oh really now?_

I smile faintly and brush my thumbs along his cheekbones as I stare at him fondly.

“Did you...you know…?” Roger stammered.

I shake my head slowly, and can’t help the chuckle that slips out at the expense of Roger’s wide eyed reaction. I pull away from Roger and try to make my way to my bedroom, only to be stopped as he grabs my wrist.

“Rog, what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well I don’t know how many aside from Brian that you’ve dated, but have none of your previous boyfriends returned the favor?” Roger asked.

I can feel my face heat up in embarrassment.

“Well I mean...not _really_ , aside from Brian. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy what we did just now. I had fun if you did.” I assured him.

“Oh, sweetheart. That is _so_ precious.” Roger smirked.

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my hips flush to his.

“Now I don’t know about you, baby girl, but I’m a little bit hungry.” He commented.

_His voice got just a little bit deeper..._

“I mean, I bought eggs yesterday- -” I started.

His shoulders shake as he laughs quietly, and I find myself growing confused until he abruptly cups my groin with a small clap. I moan out in surprise as he starts to slide his fingers along my slit through the thin material of my shorts. I immediately reach out for his wrist to stop him.

“ _Fuck Rog!_ ” I gasped. “We have to get goin’, remember? There’ll be time for this later. My hair looks like shit and I can’t style it to save my life.”

He presses his lips to my temple sweetly, before moving down and breathing heavily into my ear.

“But you’re so wet, baby. I can feel you soaking my fingers _through your shorts._ ” Roger mumbled.

I shiver against Roger as he moves his fingers firmly against me once more. Roger suddenly drops to his knees before I can say anything, and quickly slips my shorts down my legs in one swift move. Picking up one of my thighs, Roger throws it over his shoulder as he pulls me closer and presses an open mouthed kiss to my slit. Pleasure shoots down my spine as my head lolls back. I keen as I thread my fingers into his thick hair and roll my hips into his mouth.

_Well great. I can’t stop this shit now. I’m too horny..._

“ _Okay._ You get ten minutes.” I cried out.

“Make it four.” Roger husked.

_That confident huh?_

“Alright. You’re on.”

I fail to see the smirk on his face before his tongue delves into my folds.

“ _Ah! Roger!_ ”

* * *

 

By the time we get back home, we have just enough time to get changed into our outfits for the concert. Roger has a difficult time alternating between one top over another, but otherwise, is quicker than I am. I struggle to put on my top that Freddie had designed from that wedding dress, and even had to call out for Roger to help me. He manages to make me feel better as we both laugh through the whole ordeal.

“Fuck. I don’t have time for makeup do I?” I sighed.

“We have an hour and a half before the show, dear.” Freddie told me.

I smile at Fred as he walks into the apartment with Paul, Brain, and Deaky in tow with him.

“How’s it goin’, Fred? Make yourself at home.” I joked.

“As much as I’d love to, we have to get going.” Freddie chuckled. “My mother made us some cookies though. So, you can have a little snack before the show.”

Before I can walk with Freddie, the phone begins to ring. I don't even think about the time before I move to answer.

“Hello? Jack speaking.” I spoke up.

“Darling, this is hardly the time for a phone call.” Freddie muttered from behind me.

“ **_Jack. It's me...it's Allen. Where have you been all fucking day?! I've been trying to get ahold of you!_ **” He shouted frantically.

I nearly drop the phone in absolute shock. It had been nearly a _decade_ since I had actually spoken to Allen.

_What an introduction._

“How'd you get my number, Al?” I blurted out.

From the corner of my eye, I can see my friends tense up upon recognizing my older brother's name. They look ready to intervene when they notice how nervous I now appear.

“ **_I found it with Jo's address book, but that's not important right now! You need to come back home, t- -to New York._ **” Allen yelled worriedly.

I wince from how utterly loud Allen is as I pull the phone from my ear.

“I can't exactly _drop everything_ to go back to the states! What the hell is wrong with you, Al?! You're fucking- -!” I stammered.

Receiving looks of concern from my friends, I lower my voice.

“Sorry, I just...what's wrong? What has you so upset? I haven't talked to you in _years_ and you've just called me outta the blue like you owe someone money!” I chuckle nervously.

“ ** _Jo's…._** ” Allen breathes out. “ ** _Jolene is_** ** _dead_** ** _...I honestly didn't even know where she was until last night. She's been at the hospital since Monday and...fuck- -_** ” Allen sobbed. “ ** _I only found out about her whereabouts from her roommate. S- -she was in t- -the hospital and- -and I didn't, I_** ** _wasn't_** **_there_** ** _. And I had no idea that she was all alone and- -and suffering...my baby sister...oh_** ** _fuck_** ** _. Jack. I need you here,_** ** _please_** ** _._** ”

My heart nearly stops from the shock as the phone slips from my hands. Instead of falling to the floor, it dangles against the wall by the cord. I can only hear the faint crying of my older brother. It _finally_ made sense, why I had felt so terrible lately.

The feeling of devastation, of complete and utter fear, of pure dread, my anxiety episodes increasing as of late. It was indeed because of, deep down, my connection to my twin sister. Was she experiencing these emotions before she...she…

_I can't even say it. It makes it real, final. I'm not ready. Why...why Jolene? Why did it have to happen to my sweet Jolene?_

I don't even react as Brian and Freddie appear at my side.

“Jack?” Brian whispered. “You alright?”

I grab the phone, ignoring my friends as I check to see if Allen is still on the line.

“Al? You there?” My voice quivered.

“ **_Jack? God, I'm...I'm so sorry. I failed you...failed you both. Oh fuck...I'm so sorry._ **” Allen cried weakly.

At how _broken_ my older brother sounds, I can feel my eyes clenched shut. My forehead makes contact with the wall gently as I lean forward and try to focus on keeping my breathing even.

“No, you didn't.” I choked back a sob.

Freddie puts a hand on my shoulder and grabs my attention as I turn my head to face him. My normally collected friend looks the most scared I've ever seen him.

“A- -Allen. I'm gonna have to call you back. I'm...I have to leave shortly. Have a big concert to play at tonight.” I mumbled softly.

“ **_Jack, please don't go..._ ** **_please_ ** **_._ **” Allen begged.

My resolve nearly crumbles as my grip on the phone tightens.

“I- -I'm sorry. I have to go.” I whimpered.

I slam the phone back in its holding place along the wall before I can hear Allen respond. My heart wrenches from how utterly _pained and devastated_ my brother sounded. I quickly pull away from Fred, eager to get as far from the telephone as possible. My entire body froze upon hearing it ring incessantly once more. I already knew Allen was trying to call me back.

“Jacqueline. Are you alright dear?” Fred hesitantly spoke. “Why was your brother calling you?”

I snap out of it, blinking away tears with a shuddering breath. Roger comes forward and hugs me, rubbing circles into my back with his hand.

“Talk to us, baby girl. What's wrong?” Roger asked.

I withdraw from Roger, trying to give him a reassuring smile although it doesn't reach my eyes.

“I'm fine. Let's just get to the Rainbow…” I muttered softly.

I grab my guitar case and quickly storm out of the apartment without another word. The car that was sent for us is huge, definitely big enough for almost eight or nine people if I had to guess. It takes at least a minute or so before the boys are outside of the apartment complex and piling into the car with me. The car ride is filled with small talk as well as awkward pauses of silence.

“Seriously, what was with all of that back at the flat? We could all hear your brother shouting at you from across the room.”

I blink tiredly and glance over at Brian. I notice the way Freddie gives him a pointed glare before he reaches over to grab my hand. Freddie looks the most serious I’ve seen him in a long time.

“Jack. You were visibly _shaking_ , darling. Are you sure you’re okay to play tonight?” Freddie asked.

“Yeah, we can talk about that phone call later.” Roger added. “We just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m playing regardless of how I’m feeling right now.” I mumbled bitterly. “Don’t worry about me and worry about yourselves.”

_Fuck. I didn’t mean that...I’m just...yeah…_

“Don’t do that to us, we’re asking because we care.” Brian sighed.

_Don’t say it, Jack. Don’t fucking say it, you’re just hurting right now._

“Just like you cared about me when you were fucking Chrissie behind my back?” I snapped. “Yeah, didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”

Brian looks at me with wide eyes, as well as everyone else.

_FUCK. Why did I say that?! What is wrong with me?!_

I can already feel my resolve crumble when Brian gives me a pained expression.

“S- -sorry. I didn’t mean to...I...I shouldn’t have gone there. I thought I was past that to be honest.” I muttered.

“Jack. What the hell has gotten into you? Why did your brother call?” Deaky finally spoke up.

My face pales as everyone else observes me silently. I refuse to say what the conversation was about, for right now at least.

“I **can’t**.” I gritted out.

“And why not? If you’re in trouble, you know you can come to us.” Deaky scolded me. “We’re a band, a _family_.”

As I hug myself, my fingernails begin to dig into the side of my arms.

“I can’t….because...I’m still processing it myself.” My voice cracked. “I’ll deal with it later, but...I _can’t_ be alone right now. That’s why I n- -need to play t- -tonight.”

I don’t get time to take in their reactions when the car finally comes to a stop. I can see the cameramen and all sorts of people all lined up outside. I’m the first to exit the vehicle and smile faintly at Paul as he hands me my forgotten purse. I put on a brave front for the camera crew and walk with my head held high.

_How are you acting so...nonchalant about this? Your twin sister just died. Not that long ago actually._

I ignore the voice in my head, and keep marching on as my band mates follow me. I see a security guard nearby, showing me the way to our dressing room.

 _Imagine how Jolene must have felt during her last moments on this Earth. Allen wasn’t there,_ **_you_ ** _weren’t there._

The hallway looks almost distorted as my vision begins to tunnel in, and I stumble into the wall. Paul is nearby when it happens, and is quick to check on me when he sees the camera crew not far behind us.

“C’mon, darlin’. Up an’ at ‘em.” Paul whispered into my ear.

I push myself off of the wall and keep going. I can feel the guilt gnawing away at my stomach.

 _Jolene was probably terrified, and she had_ **_no one_ ** _. She fucking died_ **_alone_ ** _. Without her own_ **_family_ ** _there for her._

Paul keeps an arm around my waist as he walks with me, and I can tell from how his eyes dart nervously over to me, that there’s something seriously wrong.

_How fucking dare you call yourself a human being. You’re fucking garbage. Leaving your twin and moving to another country because you wanted to rid yourself of any reminders of that abusive bastard. You should’ve stayed with her. Maybe she wouldn’t be dead right now if you had._

Finally, we make it into the dressing room, where Paul is quick to have me sit down on a chair nearby. He cradles my face in his hands as he calls out my name, but I don’t respond.

_How long will it be before your so-called friends are sick of you and your bullshit? They only want you for the band. You think they actually care? Wait until they hear about what you did to your own sister, neglecting her like you did._

“Jackie, love? I need you to breathe.” Paul instructed. “C’mon, breathe with me.”

Despite him being so close, Paul’s voice only sounds distant in my ears.

“What’s wrong with her?! What did you do, you fucking tosser?!”

“Roger! _Back off!_ He didn’t even do anything- -” John snapped.

“What on Earth is going on?” Brian questioned.

Paul ignores everyone as he gently pats my cheeks, hoping to get my attention. That’s when Roger pauses upon looking at me.

“Oh no. She’s...she’s having an episode.”

“Keep the camera crew out of here, they _can’t_ see this right now.” Freddie mutters worriedly.

Paul nods frantically as he quickly exits the room. Roger gently nudges Fred to the side and moves to kneel in front of me.

“Jack. Look at me.”

I struggle to meet the command, but I can briefly see those baby blue eyes.

“That’s good.” Roger nods. “Now um.....take a deep breath, and count to five.”

I inhale deeply as Roger cradles my face in both hands. I hear the opening and closing of a door, as someone moves closer to me. I exhale after hearing Roger count to five. Roger appears as if he’s ready to panic, as he struggles to come up with something to say. I see Freddie nudge his side to get him talking.

“Tell me what you see, baby girl.” Roger blurted out.

“Blue...eyes.” I breathed out. “Button...nose.”

I trace my finger over Roger’s nose. I can see his lips quirk up.

“Something you can smell.” Roger encouraged.

“...that damn cologne.” I muttered weakly.

I can feel myself coming to, resembling something akin to normalcy.

“Good, darling.” Freddie joined in. “Now...how about we move you over here, and I can put on the rest of your makeup?”

“I don’t think she’s exactly fit to play right now, guys.” Brian exclaimed.

“It’s okay. Her color is returning.” Freddie muttered. “Let’s just wait this out, shall we? I’ll help get her ready. We have about forty minutes before we have to go on.”

“Fred, she almost passed out. She’s _not_ okay!” Brian argued.

Freddie ignores Brian as he powders my face gently, instructing me to close my eyes and take deep breaths as he fetches the eyeliner and mascara from my bag. Freddie is completely methodical and slow as he begins to put it on.

“Well we’re going to ask her about everything _later_. We can’t cancel any of this, Brian. There’s a camera crew and everything sent out to record the concert, which has to include all five of us. As much as I’d rather keep her in here, we can’t afford to.” Freddie explained.

“... _fuck_ .” Brian grumbled under his breath. “ **Why** do we have to be filmed?”

“It’s to _promote us_ , remember?” Deaky mentioned.

“Well it _might_ have to happen. We might have to cancel or leave her in here. She’s almost completely comatose right now.” Deaky pointed out. “What if she bloody well passes out on stage?”

Freddie finishes putting on my eye-makeup, pulling back with a smile as he places a small kiss to my cheek.

“There are you are, dear. Do you want lipstick on? I think a good burgundy will look cute on you.”

I find myself smiling at Fred’s overall gentleness.

“There’s my Brooklyn Jaybird.” Freddie mumbled softly.

I snap out of my daze as Paul comes back inside the dressing room. He looks frantic, and worried.

_When did he leave? He was just here._

“Look, I tried to delay them as long as I could, but they said they’re coming in shortly.” Paul sighed. "To get a shot of you guys."

I clear my throat and sit up taller. Everyone looks completely relieved as I do so.

“Sorry, I kinda...blacked out there.” I chuckled breathlessly. “I- -I think I’m okay now.”

“ _Bloody Christ_ , woman. You know how to give us a good scare, you know that?” Deaky quipped.

_So I've heard...at least a dozen times now._

“I know, and I’m seriously sorry. I don’t even know what happened. And I can tell it was anything but good.” I apologized sincerely.

“We’ll be having a chat about this later.” Brian told me. “That isn’t up for debate.”

When I don’t so much as offer a retort or argue as I normally would, Brian gives me a worried look.

“Are you sure you want to play? We can tell that camera crew to sod off right now.” He offered.

“N- -no. I’m fine. Just need a little pick me up, and I’ll be right as rain, you know what I mean?” I joked lightly.

“Well don’t you worry. The roadies already have the bar set up on stage.” Deaky smiled.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded.

“And you’re absolutely _certain_ that you’re fine to play?” Roger inquired.

I smile faintly at Roger before winking playfully at him.

“I’m ready if you are, Mr. Taylor.”

Roger’s lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Don’t you pull that Mr. Taylor shit on me.” Roger mimicked me.

_Paul can help me feel better..._

“I’m just gonna step out real quick, maybe use the bathroom before we go on. Paul, grab my purse will ya? I think my lipstick is in there.” I spoke flippantly.

Paul quickly catches on, giving me a friendly smile that puts me at ease.

“Sure thing, darlin’. You want me to come with you? Keep an eye out for that camera crew?”

“Yes please.” I nodded.

As Paul follows me out the dressing room, I barely make out the flash of anger on Roger’s face. I can see the camera crew outside down the hallway, and quickly go inside the bathroom next to the dressing room. Paul quickly joins me inside the bathroom before anyone can spot us.

“What do you need, darlin’?” Paul mutters.

“Something to distract me. Help me focus on the crowd and my performance. You got anything for that?” I asked.

Paul pulls out a small baggie with white powder inside. I can’t help but tense up at the reminder of my father that it brings.

“Y- -you’re sure that’ll work?” I stammered.

“Temporarily.” Paul nodded. “But I think you’ll adjust to this much better than ecstasy. You’ll be a bit more coherent I'd say.”

_This is such a bad idea…why am I doing this?_

“Alright.” I hesitantly nod.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’. I’ll be there to make sure that _nothing_ goes wrong.” Paul assured me.

Paul opens the baggie, placing three thin lines of coke on the top of his hand.

“S- -so what do I do? Just snort it?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yup.” Paul smiled. “Listen, don’t think too much about it and make sure you inhale it deeply through your nose. If you feel like you can handle it, I’ll let you do two lines.”

“Okay.” I chuckled nervously.

“It’s alright, lovie. Come on. I’ll guide you through it. Just do what I do.”

Paul reaches into his pocket, grabbing what appears to be the world’s tiniest straw. He places the tip of it into his nose before snorting one line of coke. He straightens up immediately after, and is quick to wipe the end of the straw before handing it to me. I lean in towards Paul’s hand, glancing down at the powdery substance along his hand.

_This is so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this._

“Okay…” I breathed out. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s alright to need a pick me up. Just as long as you’re doin’ it with folks you trust, yeah? You can come to me about anythin’ and I’ll hook you up.” Paul told me.

_Yeah...with people you trust. I'll be fine. I **have** to be fine. I have to be. _

I blink away tears as I place the tip of the straw to my nose. I copy what Paul does perfectly, and feel my nostril burn lightly from the strange sensation. The burn fades quickly, so I snort the last line with my other nostril. Paul wipes away my tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You’ll feel better shortly, yeah? Just focus on the show. You’re gonna do fuckin’ amazing. I _know_ you will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. A lot of shit just happened in this chapter. A lot of it bad, but whatever, that's just how it ended up for me. I'll probably change it at a later date. But for now, I'll get started on the next chapter. Let me know what ya'll think!


	5. Losing Your Other Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So....yeah...more depressing shit. Yaaaaaayyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll definitely come back to edit this chapter at a later date, but I feel like I kept rewriting this WAY too much so I'm just going to put it out there before I chicken out! I was so hyped, and also maybe a bit high (on life, haha, what did you think I meant?) when I wrote the beginning for the Rainbow concert! You know the one! And I was listening to Van Halen's Eruption when I had Jack do a random guitar solo, dancing around on stage and tuning out the world around her, and with everyone just reacting like HOLY SHIT. Plus, In The Lap Of The Gods, I have to fucking write about that, you KNOW why. On another note, I'll try to make the next chapter less depressing! :D Woe is me.

_November 20th, 1974 at the Rainbow_ _Theater..._

 

The concert at the Rainbow Theater was exhilarating, the crowd was booming with excitement. Everyone seemed to love our music, they actually _love_ what we have to say. Freddie kept proving to everyone that he was an excellent front man with every passing second. His passion showed with every note he sang and with every song we performed together. Freddie was like a siren in the sea. As soon as you witnessed him sing, you were immediately captivated and drawn in.

“This next song was written by our lovely guitarist Jacqueline. Come and say hello dear.”

For the time being, I was able to forget what occurred just hours earlier. The phone call with Allen was momentarily put on hold in the back of my mind. With the cocaine that Paul had provided me, I was able to _focus_ on putting on a good show. The chemistry I now had with the audience as well as my band mates was completely _intoxicating_. I never wanted this exciting and euphoric filled night to end.

_Because then I would be brought back to my harsh reality._

I walk over to Freddie, my guitar hanging loosely around me like a necklace. At the cheers of the men and women within the crowd, I blow them all a fun and playful kiss. They become drawn in like moths to a flame, and admittedly, I was growing addicted to it as well. Freddie aims his mic towards my direction, giving me that dazzling smile of his that has my heart melt.

_Damn it. He knows I can’t resist that smile..._

When the audience shouts, Freddie picks up on one question in particular he could hear from someone.

“Yes, I am rather curious myself. What is _In The Lap Of The Gods_ about?” Freddie asked me.

I can’t help but laugh at Fred’s impression of an interviewer, even as I'm put on the spot.

“Well...if you pay attention to the lyrics, it might make more sense to you. Or sound like complete nonsense... _but why spoil the surprise?_ ” I quipped playfully.

They all respond with a small bout of laughter. Deep down though, I find myself relieved that I was able to dodge the question.

“Now get that lovely ass of yours to the piano, Freddie.” I smirked.

Freddie’s grin only grows as he blows me a kiss, before moving to sit at the piano. He plays a couple of notes along the piano keys.

“ _So one, two, three, four!_ ” Freddie started off.

All of us rush in to play, bass and guitars, as well as the sounds of cymbals and drums, all clashing together beautifully before fading out. Freddie slows the song down a bit with a graceful flex of his fingers along the piano, before arching his back to sing into the mic on top of the instrument.

“ _I_ _live my liiiiffffee, for youuu. Think of my thooooouuugghhhts, with you and only yooouuuuu. Anything you ask, I do, for yoouuuuu…..I touch your lips with mine. But iiin the eeeend, I leave it to the loooorrrrdddss...leeaaavvee it in the Lap of the Gooooooddsss!_ ” Freddie sang soulfully.

My entire body freezes as the piano picks up its pace, drums kicking back in. I can feel my vision blur, as Brian and Deaky join in as well. When I close my eyes, I realize that I’m crying mid-performance. It could have been a combination of things: the song was powerful, the fact of who I’d actually written it for, and the way Freddie sang it had me _moved_.

I smile faintly as I whirl around, ignoring the tears strolling down my face as I face Roger. Our drummer looks at me in concern while he continues to play like the champion that he is, mouthing the words, “Are you okay?” Despite the smile on my face, I shake my head in response to the question, and close my eyes as I try to focus on the music itself.

“ _I waaaaannnt youuu toooooooo….leeeaave it in the Laaap ooof thheee Goooodddss!....leave iiit in the Laaap of the Goooddds...leave it in the Lap of the Gooooodddsss!_ ” Freddie continued.

Freddie’s voice carries out into the spacious theatre with a pleasing echo. I could listen to the man sing all day if I could.

“ _Laaaaaaappp ooooofff the Goooooddddsss!”_

“ _AAAA_ **_Aaaaaaaaaaahhh!_ **”

My eyes fly open the moment I hear Roger’s falsetto, but I don’t dare stop playing. Not when everything felt so light and beautiful.

“ _Laaaaaaappp ooooofff the Goooooddddsss!”_

 _“AAaaaaaa_ **_AAAAAaaaaaaahhh!_ **”

Roger glances at me from the sides of his eyes, and openly smirks at me as he continues to play and sing almost _effortlessly_.

_How in the fucking shit is he doing that?!_

I smile warmly at Roger and ignore the tears rolling down my cheeks. 

“ _Laaaaaaaaap oooooofff the Gooooodddsss!_ ”

“ _Aaaaaaaaa_ **_AAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaahhh!_ **”

“ _Iiiin the Laaaaapp ooooof the GOOooodddssss!_ ”

“ _AAAA_ **_aaaaaaaahhhhhh!_ **”

“ _In the Laaap ooof the Goooodds!_ ”

I bob my head as I finally turn away, making my way towards Brian as we finish off the song together strongly.

* * *

I wipe sweat from the back of my forehead as we just finish _Bring Back That Leroy Brown._ It was a fun little instrumental section from the Sheer Heart Attack Album that gave Freddie a good few minutes to rest his vocal chords. I contemplate taking off my top as I glance over between the audience and the roadies towards the side of the stage. I decide to go through with it when I feel another wave of heat course through my body.

_Why is it so hot? I'm sweating like a goddamn pig._

I fan myself as I walk over to the edge of the stage, while the audience is momentarily enthralled by Freddie and his delightful chatter, who are all more than happy to engage with them. Paul looks at me in utter confusion as I remove my guitar strap briefly. I hand one of the roadies my guitar as I hurriedly yank off the top that Freddie had specially designed as I find myself sweating profusely. 

“What are you- -”

“If you’re worried about me being in my bra alone, just save it. I’m fuckin’ hot in that thing and I can barely breathe!” I spat out.

It doesn't take long for Brian to notice that something is wrong as he approaches us. His eyes grew wide with shock at my current, or lack of, state of dress.

“Jack! What on earth are you doing?!” Brian hissed at me.

“Trying not to pass out from heat!” I growled lowly.

I point towards one of the roadies.

“You.”

“M- -me?” He muttered fearfully.

“Let me borrow your button-up. Those assholes with the cameras will just have a field day if I go back out there with only a bra on. I can just pull a Roger Taylor and keep it unbuttoned, but at least I’ll have _something_ on.” I told him.

_On the bright side, if there is any at all, it'll give me a sleazy rock star look._

Paul nudges him with his elbow, and the young man complies, hastily unbuttoning his shirt and handing it to me. The shirt itself is way too big on me as it stops just down my thighs, but as Freddie begins to announce the next song, I don’t have time to button up my shirt and just leave it open. Grabbing back my guitar, I give the roadie a thankful nod as I walk back towards the stage. However, Brian is fast to catch me by the wrist after I put on the strap again, and looks at me with that all too concerned expression of his.

“Jack, you need to _calm dow_ n. You look ready to keel over.” Brian scolded.

“Brian, I’m fine.” I lightly scoff. “Worry about yourself, dude.”

“ _Why_ are you being like this? D- -did _Paul_ give you something? We’re already like half way through the bloody set! What’s going on with you, Jack?” Brian questioned.

“I’m not talking about it _right now_ , Brian. Now let me go.”

“I seriously don’t think you **can** play right now. You’re much too manic, going fucking barmy out there and _crying_. How about you just sit out for this song- -” Brian started.

_So now he’s questioning my ability to play, huh? I’ll fucking show him._

As Freddie wraps up whatever he’s saying, I abruptly start playing a riff from my guitar and surprise just about _everyone_ as the sound of my guitar echoes throughout the entire space. The audience falls silent as I come up with something random on the fly. Brian’s eyes are as wide as saucers when he’s forced to let me go, and I start making my way back on stage. The spotlight is suddenly on me, and the audience cheers as I come up with a guitar solo from seemingly out of nowhere. My surroundings begin to melt away as I play to my heart’s content, and dance along across the entire stage as I really begin to _feel_ the music.

_This feels so liberating….maybe I’ll have to do coke more often._

I throw my head back and pause after one long note, but the silence doesn’t last long until I start right back up again, stronger than ever. My fingers move with urgency and skill as I perform my improvised solo, and finally finish as I slide down on my knees. The next minute or so is filled with pure silence as I finally open my eyes again. The entire area suddenly erupts into deafening cheers, and I can’t help but grin madly as I stand back up again.

“Well holy goddamned shit.” Freddie mutters into his mic.

The audience laughs a bit at the lead singer’s dumbstruck look. Freddie covers up his surprise with another grin aimed at the crowd as he walks over to me. The hand that clamps down on my shoulder is tight.

“Thank you, dear Jackie, for that _brilliant_ solo! A little warning next time though, eh? You nearly blew us all away.” Freddie chuckled.

Although underneath the cheerful facade, I know Freddie looks _very_ annoyed at me. Normally more shy and reserved, I can’t help but feel a wave of confidence from the drugs, and lean in towards the mic as I maintain eye contact with Fred.

“Sorry about that, Freddie. Just wanted to make sure my instrument still worked.” I joked.

“Oh I think it works just fine, dear.” Freddie responds teasingly.

At this, everyone laughs, while others whistle and give a enthused shout of my name. I find myself easily mesmerized by the audience once again, and give them all a mock salute before blowing a kiss. I give Freddie an apologetic look and a small nod, and just like that, the tension seems to dissipate. As I make my way back to my spot across the stage near Brian, the spotlight goes back to Freddie. I lean towards Brian quickly, placing a kiss on his cheek as I mutter out an brief apology much to his surprise.

Almost another hour passes before we end the concert on _Jailhouse Rock,_ and by then, all seems well as we enjoy the music together _._ I can still feel the rush of adrenaline fueled by the crowd as the rest of the show drags on in a blur. My sudden anger from earlier is almost completely diminished, and I smile at Brian as I dance with him during our final performance. When I twirl around and face Roger, that’s when I spot it.

Roger looks absolutely _pissed off_ , and I’m immediately reminded of the last tantrum the blonde had when he threw our entire television set out of the fucking window. I watch Deaky go up to him as he continues to play, mouthing the words “ _are you okay?_ ” to which Roger responds quickly as if _warning_ him about something. Then, the song ends with a massive beating of the drums and cymbals before Roger flips and pushes over his _entire_ drum set across the stage.

Deaky and Freddie just barely dodge the cymbals and drums that fall and fly near their direction, and swiftly get off of the stage to avoid being hit. Brian and I exchange a brief look of worry before unplugging our guitars, smiling at the audience and blowing them all a kiss as we walk off together. By the time Brian and I get to the dressing room, we can already hear the loud argument booming between Roger and Freddie.

“I want that fucking wanker **_gone!_ ** ” Roger screamed. “He’s been _nothing_ but fucking trouble since he started ‘ _offering’_ his help! _Some help it is though!_ He’s turning you and Jack into fucking _drug addicts!_ ”

_Is he...talking about Paul?_

“Roger! You nearly **killed** us! That cymbal was _this_ close to making contact with my bloody head!” Freddie argued.

As Brian shuts the door, everyone turns to glare at us. Or rather, they all glare at _me_ specifically.

_I don’t know why they’re acting like this. That was an awesome show._

“I’m only going to ask you this once.” Roger told me. “What did he give you?”

“I’m not talking to you while you’re like this.” I shake my head.

“ _Jacqueline_.”

At how utterly enraged Roger sounds, I can feel my confidence waver.

“I- -I’m not talking to you while you’re like this.” I repeat meekly.

Before Roger can explode, Freddie cuts him off with a heated glare.

“Fucking forget about Paul, Roger. You sound so bloody paranoid! You hardly even know the man!” Freddie snapped. “Honestly, I’d rather know why _she_ was a god damn train wreck prior to the show! She performed just fine, although her behavior was a bit questionable.”

“Just a bit?” Deaky breathed.

Freddie’s face melts into one of concern as he turns to me. Freddie’s eyes are telling me something else entirely, as if he wanted me to come forward before everything got out of hand. My judgement is already clouded though, and I find myself _genuinely_ confused.

_Nevermind...maybe I shouldn’t do coke again...look at what that shit did to my dad._

Before Fred can say anything else, however, Brian cuts in.

“Yeah, aside from that impromptu guitar solo, the show was _great_. Probably one of our best concerts yet. But what were you even trying to prove, Jack?” Brian added. “I was merely suggesting that you sit out for _one_ song, and you misinterpreted what I meant! You acted like a goddamn child _just_ to spite me and threw everyone off! It was stupid and reckless!”

Then the reality comes crashing in. The happiness and pleasure that came from the show completely disappeared, and I realize just how _angered_ everyone was. I think back on my behavior, and come to realize just how much of a cocky prick I was for the majority of our concert. I could honestly say that I was appalled from my own actions, and then I remembered why I even snorted the cocaine in the first place.

I wanted to forget about my problems, about... _Jolene,_ even if it was temporary. I didn’t want to accept the fact that she was truly gone from my life. I wanted to see her more than anything, but now I would **never** get to again. What had she done to deserve such an early conclusion from this world? _Absolutely fucking nothing._

_Maybe I really am an idiot...a fuck up...just like my father always told me I’d be._

“I already told you that I _won’t_ fucking ask again! What did he give you?! You’re barely even **here** right now!” Roger snapped.

“We had a good show and that’s what matters right?” I mutter brokenly.

“Jacqueline.” John finally spoke. “What’s gotten into you? You’re legitimately scaring me. You’re scaring _all of us._ I could barely recognize you on that stage...”

I can’t help but twitch nervously, and begin scratching at my arms as I lean against the door. I can already feel myself wavering.

_Jolene...what would you say to me now? You still think I’m turning my life around?_

Brian abruptly grabs my hands to stop me from scratching myself. I can feel my breath catch in my throat when I make eye contact with Brian. Brian’s anger is replaced with concern yet again. This time, I can’t find it within me to be angry at anyone besides myself.

“ _Talk to us._ ” Brian pleaded.

I blink away tears as I pull myself from his grasp. I didn’t _deserve_ comfort right now. I was just a problem to them. Why was I even here? They didn't need me, and they certainly didn't deserve all the trouble that came with me.

“Jack.” Roger’s voice shook. “ _Would you just- -_ ”

“My sister died.” I blurted out.

 _I can’t believe that it’s real. It doesn’t_ **_feel_ ** _real. Maybe Allen was just pulling my leg, maybe...no….no, he’d **never** call me just to... _

I can hear a gasp from Freddie and see the most heartbroken expression on his face that Roger mirrors. Deaky looks more stricken with shock, while Brian just appear completely frozen with uncertainty and sadness at the same time. I quickly avert my gaze and look to the floor while my hand fumbles for the doorknob. I just wanted to hide and attempt to forget how awful of a person I am.

“I’m sorry about tonight, I’m just an idiot and I only cause problems.” I exclaimed.

No one can’t get another word in before I suddenly leave the room. My hands twitch at my sides as I briskly walk down the hallway, with many negative thoughts roaming around in my mind. I contemplate having a joint or another line of cocaine, but decide against it as I recall how angry my friends were. I walk past Paul and an associate of ours, but I don’t make eye contact and continue making my way outside as I brush past them. By the time I get to the back entrance, I begin pacing along the sidewalk and scratch anxiously at my arms.

I feel nothing but dread as I recall the last conversation I had with Jolene via phone call. We were discussing the last letter I had sent her, and that happened a little over a month ago. I usually talked to her every week depending on my schedule. Why didn’t I try reaching out to her? Was I just too busy? Was she? How long had she been in the hospital before Allen was notified by Jolene’s roommate and dialed my number?

 _Aw. Are you thinking that you could have saved Jolene? Your baby sister? Your twin? Don’t be silly. Your neglect cost you her life. You feel that absolute devastation and despair in the pit of your stomach? You did that to yourself, Jacqueline. Because you didn’t_ **_care_ ** _enough about your sister. You’ve_ **_only_ ** _cared about yourself, about finding meaning in life. Of finding happiness and filling that void in your heart that your father tore open and left barren. Even your friends know how neglectful and horrible you are, they_ **_know_ ** _you aren’t worth shit. They_ **_know_ ** _how much of a worthless cunt you are. You can’t even perform a show without a bit of ‘help’ from Paul Prenter. Fucking end your pathetic life. Right. Now.- -_

Seemingly out of nowhere, I see Freddie and Roger grab at my arms. I blink through tearful eyes and come to realize that I’m sitting down on the cold sidewalk, my back pressed against a random taxi cab parked down the street, with my knees brought to my chest and curled in on myself like a small child. My head aches, but it suddenly registers in my mind that Freddie and Roger were pulling my arms down because I’d been tugging at my own hair so roughly that I could have drawn blood or ripped chunks of my hair out. I can barely make out Brian and John in the background through my blurred vision, draping a jacket around my shoulders considering I was still wearing that button up, one that's was still wide open and exposing me to the cold air.

“J- -Jack your arms.” Freddie cried.

Roger’s smoothing down my hair as he turns my head, forcing me to face him. His blue eyes glisten with tears before he blinks rapidly to will them away.

“Oh baby...I’m _so_ sorry.” Roger uttered softly.

He swipes his thumbs underneath my eyes before pulling me in for a hug. My arms continue to twitch anxiously, until I feel John kneel with us. As his hand traces my arm soothingly, my shaking begins to lessen. Freddie picks up on it quickly and does the same to my other arm as he leans in and hugs me from my side. Soon enough, Brian and John join in on the hug as well. Feeling too tired, I don’t fight against them, and try to enjoy the warmth.

* * *

 

_November 22nd, 1974 at Gothenburg, Sweden..._

 

Two days had passed since the night at Rainbow Theater. I didn't sleep until exhaustion took over my very being, and I certainly didn't eat while my stomach churned with guilt. I didn't talk to my friends for the trip to Sweden, although they sent me longing and saddened looks every few minutes. Paul could sense that something was seriously wrong with me, but seeing the defeated and darkened expression on my face, he seemed nervous at approaching me. My need to go see Jolene was overwhelming, and it was so strong that I finally caved in. After the tour bus came to a stop at a local diner nearby, I contacted our manager out of desperation. The conversation went about as well as I expected it to, but Norman was acting like the death of Jolene was such an inconvenience, and that was enough to _piss me the fuck off_.

“What do you mean I _can’t_ go?” My voice trembled. “Norman, it’ll just be a couple of days. I **need** to do this. I can’t just let my brother go through this on his own. _It’s my family_.”

I held the phone with such a tight grip that I was sure it might break. I couldn’t care less though, not with how angry I was starting to become. Here I was, trying to _negotiate_ with Norman, someone I normally got along with very well. Surely, the band would perform just fine without me for a couple of days until I got things settled back in the states.

_My mistake for assuming so._

“ ** _I’m sorry, dear. I really truly am. But you can’t just leave during the tour._ **” Norman sighed.

I knew Norman meant well, but boy was he a huge dill-hole. If Brian was able to miss a couple of shows due to the sudden illnesses over the past couple of years, what was different about me? I had a _very_ valid excuse. I needed to go back to the States, I needed to see Allen and figure out what we were going to do regarding Jolene’s funeral.

_God damn it..._

“I can miss a fucking show or two! My brother **needs** me!” I snapped. “Did you not hear the part about my sister being _dead_? What the fuck, Norman?!”

“ ** _Jacqueline. I am truly sorry for your loss, but you’re needed here! You’re under a contract! You can’t just take off on such short notice! Especially during your tour!_ **”

“You know what, Norman? Go fuck yourself.” I growled.

I hang up abruptly before slamming the phone down. Anger courses through my very being, and I can’t help but take it out on the phone and grab the handle before bashing it against the machine repeatedly that it almost rivals Roger's tantrums. A scream rips its way out of my throat as I hit the machine one last time, much harder than the rest. I glare at the payphone through tear filled eyes and storm away, ignoring the lingering gazes of citizens nearby.

I walk back into the restaurant that we’d stopped at and sit down with my band mates in our booth. I can tell they witnessed just about everything through the window. From our table, you could see a clear view of the payphone. I feel my knuckles crack the harder I clenched my fist.

“You get a good show?” I grumbled.

“What did Norman say?” Freddie blurted out.

I shut my mouth and take deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself, though it did jack shit. My nostrils flare from the pure rage I now feel. I wanted to tell Trident to fuck off and just quit, even though that was far from being a possibility. At this point though, what choice were they giving me?

“Jack?” Brian muttered softly.

“Norman told me I can’t leave.” I spat out. “ _We’re in the middle of the tour! You have a contract! Blaah Blaabiddy fucking BLAH!_ ” I slam a fist onto the table..

Everyone jumps at the sudden noise. My friends actually look nervous to be near me right now,  but I could hardly blame them. I wasn’t always like this. I had always been just a bit more level-headed and stable. I think the changes began when I had those intense flashbacks of my childhood. Although I didn’t know what invoked them to begin with.

“Are you **_serious_ **right now?” John nearly shouted. “It’s your family!”

Tears fall from my eyes, but I’m far too outraged to bother wiping my eyes. The boys have seen me in much worse states after all. Roger is quick to reach for my hand underneath the table, and rubs small circles on my clenched fists.

“I...I can’t believe this is happening. _Any_ of this…” My voice cracked.

His hand pauses over mine. His fingers intertwined with mine after coaxing my hand open. I feel just a bit grounded and safe, but only barely. The relief was small, but it was _enough_.

“You know what? Fuck Norman. Let’s just get a flight. You and me.” Roger blurted out.

I glance at Roger with a tired expression. I was too exhausted to try and get my hopes up. Brian leans over the table, his voice coming to a hushed whisper as he scolds Roger.

“Roger, you can’t just _leave_.” Brian shook his head. “Believe me, I want to just drop everything and help Jack as much as you do- -”

“Then let’s fucking do it! Brian, this is her sister for Christ’s sake! She _needs_ to go!”

_As much as I wanted the guys to meet Jolene, I don’t want them to see her like that. Lifeless…dead..._

I stop the argument blooming between Roger and Brian by simply raising my hand. The two cease their speech immediately as they glance at me in confusion.

“No. If anything, I’ll just go by myself. We’ve still got the tour to worry about.” I said. “It just needs to be me. I don’t want you to see her...not like this. That’s not how I’d want you to first meet her, and that’s not how I’d want you to remember her.”

I let out a trembling breath as my eyes flutter shut once again. I could vividly picture Jolene’s smile, a mirror image of my own, so full of life and love.

_Dead...she’s dead...is she though? Wait...yes… she is. It’s so hard to believe that she’s just...gone..._

I can almost hear her laughter, so husky and soft unlike my own. I remember the last time we saw each other, back in 1966, how tightly we hugged at the airport before I boarded my flight. Her light red hair tickling underneath my nose as I buried my face into her neck. Despite being my twin sister, she was loving and nurturing like our mother as she muttered words of love and support. Without her, I don’t think I would have had the courage to leave. 

_How can I go back there...knowing she won't be there?_

“Jacqueline.” Freddie muttered softly. “What’s on your mind, dear? Talk to us.”

“I...I don’t know if I can do it.” I confessed.

Everyone looks to me with surprise and worry.

“Go back to the States?” John clarified.

I nod frantically and bite down on my bottom lip as it begins to quiver.

“Jack, look at me.”

Roger grips my chin lightly before turning me to face him.

“ _You should go_. For Jolene, for Allen, for yourself….and I **know** that it’ll be hard. Probably the most difficult thing you’ll ever have to do.” Roger told me. “But you have  _us_ to be there for you. To catch you when you fall, to support you throughout all of this...and I’m _so_ sorry that this had to happen to you. Just know that whatever you decide...we’ll always back you up.”

In that moment, Roger looked at me the way that my father used to look at my mother before her death. Despite the fact that his expression was saddened, his eyes told a different story. There was so much warmth and love in those baby blues.

_He’s absolutely right. I need to be there to say goodbye. God...saying goodbye...what the fuck is even happening?_

“You’re right…. _you’re_ _right_. I should go.” I sighed. “But none of you are going to join me.”

Roger looks almost heartbroken as I utter that last sentence, as do the others.

“So what are you suggesting?” John asked. “That we just carry on without you?”

“Jack, if they know- -if _Norman_ catches wind that you left the bloody continent regardless of what he told you, he’ll lose his marbles- -” Brian rambled nervously.

“And that’s better than what? Cancelling _another_ tour? Fat fucking chance, Brian.” I snapped. “We _need_ this tour.”

“Then what are you suggesting, darling?” Freddie raised an eyebrow.

Fred folds his arms as he waits for me to speak, as if I have to somehow prove myself to him.

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m _telling_ you. I’m going back to the States for a couple of days, a week at most. I can try to join you just before we do the concert in Munich.” I stated.

“That simply won’t do at all, luv. I know that you feel like this is something that you’re compelled to do all by your lonesome, but I **won’t** allow it. You’re one of my _dearest_ friends.” Freddie argued.

“Fred, you’re being ridiculous! The band needs this tour! Don’t throw that away because of me!” I cried out.

“We’re not throwing anything away, don’t be absurd!” Freddie’s eyes flash with anger. “The bottom line of this, is that you’re **not** okay. I _refuse_ to let you go through this on your own. You remember what John said before we left London? _You were barely recognizable on that stage._ You’re completely torn up and heartbroken, and I’m afraid that if you were to leave on your own, that we’d lose you completely.”

My eyes widen at Fred’s implication, how his voice trembled with fear and unease.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Fred.” Brian hissed at him.

Realizing how it must have sounded, Freddie’s eyes widen as well as he gives a frantic shake of his head.

“No! _No_ , that is **not** what I meant! Don’t twist my words around!” Freddie shouted. “I was referring to her bloody anxiety! I’m not trying to imply that I don’t trust your brother to take care of you, but he **hasn’t** been there like _we_ have since he first left you. He wouldn’t know how to handle it.”

I can see people looking in our direction, but I don’t pay them any attention. I was growing angrier at Fred by each passing second.

“Wow, you are _really_ making yourself look bad here, mate...” Deaky muttered.

Freddie covers his face with both hands out of embarrassment, before facing me once again as soon as a minute passes. His eyes shimmer with tears, and he’s quick to wipe them away.

“Jacqueline. You know what I mean though, right? I just don’t like the idea of you going to another bloody _continent_ by yourself where _we aren’t._ Especially in your fragile condition. I say it out of love, dear. I don’t think _you’re_ incapable of taking care of yourself, but...I’m worried something might happen.” Fred sighed.

In Freddie’s perspective, I could see why he was heavily concerned about the mere idea of me suffering an anxiety attack alone. He was right of course, Allen probably wouldn’t know how to handle it. I’d been fortunate enough to be in the company of my best friends whenever I had an episode or fit of anxiety.

“I just know that if I _don’t_ leave...I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, Fred. Before I had you guys...I **only** had Jolene. She meant the fucking world to me.” I mumbled softly.

“I know she did.” Freddie mumbled. “And that’s _precisely_ why I’m worried about you.”

I can’t help but glare at Freddie.

“Well I’m going with or without your damn blessing, Bulsara.” 

His expression says everything I needed to know. Freddie was too protective of me. All of the boys were too protective of me.

“How about we get one of the groupies to dress up as you? Make her pretend to be violently ill...at least while you’re gone.” John suggested. “Maybe no one will suspect anything if you just remain on _bed rest._ ”

“There’s at least a couple of problems with that, Deaks. The last violently ill incident landed our other guitarist here right into the hospital. And it’s not only happened once, but _twice_. I highly doubt they’re going to react kindly to it a third time.” Roger grimly replied.

“Oh sod off, Rog! I had gangrene from that blasted needle! That was hardly my fault! The hepatitis was also something that just happened by chance!” Brian scoffed.

“What about Sandra?” Deaky asked.

“The _groupie_ , Sandra?” Freddie clarified.

“Yeah” He nodded. “She’s practically the same height and weight as Jack...has light red hair…”

“The poor dear is absolutely _smitten_ with Jack. She was telling the other groupies that she was going to style it the same and- - _oh._ I see where you’re going with this.” Fred responded.

“So we’re just going to use one of our groupies to _pretend_ to be Jack? That’s utterly preposterous.” Brian rolled his eyes.

“Aw, look at Brian using big words.” Freddie cooed.

Brian gives him a heated glare, but Freddie doesn’t pay any mind to it.

“But I agree with him, where are you going with this Deaky? We can’t just have her pretend to be our other lead guitarist. She can’t even play, and I don’t really know her that well.” Fred questioned.

“No, I still think we should do the whole sick bit, but...uh...well…” Deaky stammered. “Maybe say she’s on her menstrual cycle. What can I say? Some men are idiots and we can use that to our advantage. Nothing against Norman...”

_Seriously? Why the fuck is that so funny?_

It sounded so outlandish and humorous that I could barely hold it in. I glance down, my shoulders shaking from silent laughter as my hair falls over my face.

“Jack? Are you alright, baby girl?” Roger inquired.

I glance up at Deaky after several seconds pass, giving him a warm smile that has him practically melt on the spot.

“Y’know, that really sounds so fucking ludicrous that it _might_ work.” I chuckled softly. “But thank you for that...I don’t think I’ve even so far as _smiled_ since...you know…”

My smile quickly fades, and I quickly avert my gaze when I go to pick up my coffee cup.

“Look...I seriously appreciate you guys looking out for me. I know I’d be far worse off without all of you. You bring out the best in me...just like Jo did. You’re all I’ve got left. And I’m not just saying that now. With Allen, I know that he’s my brother, but….there’s still years of resentment towards him. I don’t know if our relationship will ever be the same again. So that leaves just the four of you. Because I trust and love every single one of you.” I lower my voice.

“ _Okay_.” Freddie nods. “I understand….we all understand really. But you need to call us every day. Once or twice a day will suffice.”

I sip at my coffee as I glance at Freddie suspiciously, wondering if there was a catch. When our eyes lock, I know that Freddie is being genuine.

“Alright...fair enough.” I agreed.

“So we’re actually doing this? What if Sandra says no?” Brian’s eyes widen.

“She won’t say no.” Roger assured him with a grin. “She’s _smitten_ with Jack, remember?”

“We can pay her if that’s what you want.” Deaky shrugged.

“I can’t believe we’re considering this.” Brian shook his head.

“I think it’ll be quite fun actually.” Freddie cracked a smile.

* * *

For the rest of the day, we check into our hotel and ‘get settled in’. Or rather, I pack a light bag with several outfits and other essentials. Later in the afternoon, we call up Sandra, and explain to her about my brief leave of absence while telling her how important this was. Sandra practically has hearts floating around her head as she looks right into my eyes and agrees into doing this for me with no argument whatsoever. I almost feel bad about using her like this, but I know that I’ll make it up to the poor girl when I get the chance to.

Discreetly, I get ready to leave, knowing that direct flight from Gothenburg, Sweden all the way to New York City would be about ten hours long. I’d have to leave now just to get there before nightfall. After calling a taxi, I put on a jacket with a hood and make my way into the lobby going completely incognito. Much to my surprise, the boys accompany me to the airport.

“Remember, you call the hotel as soon as you’re able to. We’ll be in my room tonight.” Freddie told me.

“Right.” I nodded.

“And don’t forget to eat and shower and- -”

“Alright, mother hen. I get it.” I crack a smile.

Fred pauses as he cradles my face in his hands. He gives me a warm smile before placing a kiss to my forehead.

“Just be careful. If you feel... _you know_...just remove yourself from the room and go outside. Do those exercises Brian and Roger mentioned. They seemed to help you.” Freddie told me.

“I will.”

“Good.” He nods curtly.

Fred pulls away just as Brian comes forward next. He wraps his arms around my waist before lifting me from the ground. I can’t help but giggle as he spins me around in his arms.

“You take care of yourself, yeah? We’ll be waiting for that phone call. Remember, when you feel like your vision tunnels in, just...deep and slow breaths. Start listing off things you can see, smell, touch, hear…” Brian rambled.

“I will, Bri.” I assured him.

“And for the love of God, _don’t_ attack anyone. You can be just as hot tempered as Roger sometimes.”

I roll my eyes fondly at the taller man as I pull back, and ruffle that mop of dark curly hair on his head.

“I don’t know if I can promise that. Being a crazy american woman and everything.” I joked.

Deaky comes forward next and throws his arms around me before nuzzling his face into the gap between my neck and shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss you.” John muttered.

“You’re acting like I’m leaving forever, Deaks. It’ll just be a week at most.” I chuckle softly.

“It’s just not gonna be the same without you there, you know?”

“I know we’re dancing queens, Deaky, but you’ll be fine without me for a couple of shows.” I teased.

Deaky lets out a small giggle at my comment, before playfully shoving me away.

“Just get back as soon as you can, yeah?”

Then, finally, Roger comes forward as John mutters his goodbye. The three boys wait patiently for their drummer at the taxi. Roger takes off his sunglasses, and props them on the top of his head.

“I wish I could just go with you.” Roger mumbled softly.

“But you know why you can’t.” I reminded him.

“Right…” He sighed.

I reach down his halfway unbuttoned shirt, pulling out my old pocket watch attached to the necklace chain. I smile fondly at it, and place a kiss to the gold before tucking it back into Roger’s shirt.

“Well, you’ll always have a piece of me with you right?”

He nods almost frantically as I run a hand over his chest. I can practically _feel_ his heartbeat pick up in speed. I can tell that he’s afraid of letting me go.

“I’ll call you when I make it, alright? It’ll be about ten hours. Just...make sure you give ‘em hell for me.”

Roger snaps, and embraces me before I can do or say anything else. I can see Fred, John, and Brian from just over his shoulder. When Roger pulls back, I find myself immensely surprised when he smashes our lips together. Instinctively, I melt into the kiss and weave my fingers into his hair as his arms wrap around my waist. Slowly coming back to reality though, I gently tug at Roger’s hair and pull him away from my lips as he releases a whimper from his lips.

“You keep making those noises, and I might not be able to go.” I teased.

“I change my mind, you’re not going anywhere.” Roger whined.

I can’t help but laugh at the pout on his face and smooth back his hair.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Also, I’m just glad **I** won’t be the one harassed by Brian or Fred. You know they saw everything right? So have fun with that.” I smirked.

At this, Roger’s eyes widen in realization.

“ _Fuck me_ …” He groaned.

“Maybe later, Mr. Taylor.” I joked.

Roger cracks a grin at this, and throws caution to the wind as he kisses me once again.

“You drive me absolutely mad, Mrs. Taylor.” Roger breathed. “I’ll be sure to wank one off to you when you leave.”

_Only Roger could make me laugh about something like that._

The two of us share another laugh before we finally pull back. I grab my bag from the ground and turn to walk away, but Roger grabs my wrist.

“Be safe, alright? We love you, baby girl.”

I glance back at Roger with a tearful gaze.

“And I love you all too.”

Finally, Roger releases me, and I pick up my pace before I lose the strength to carry on.

“ _Roger Meddows Taylor, you **absolute** scoundrel! _” Freddie shouts from behind.

A smile graces my lips, but I don’t look back.

_Yeah...they’ll be fine without me._

* * *

_November 24th at Brooklyn, New York._

 

I try to quell my nerves with a hit from my joint as I make my way to Jolene’s apartment. I feel mentally and physically drained from the flight, but I continue to push on. The taxi driver says nothing about my smoking habits, although I can feel his gaze from the rear view mirror almost the entire ride. I pay the taxi driver generously before exiting the vehicle with my duffel bag in hand.

As I raise my shaking hand to the front door, it practically flies open. A woman’s eyes widen upon seeing me, as if she was looking at a ghost. I quickly pick up on it, realizing that this woman was most likely Jolene’s roommate Christine. Her eyes prickle with tears as she throws her arms around me, and nearly throws me off balance. I rub at her lower back comfortingly until she pulls away.

“Fuck, _I’m so sorry_. You’re just...you’re practically a spitting image of Jo. Please, come on in. Your brother said he was gonna come by later.” The young woman cried.

“Come by later for what? How does he know I’m here?” I asked in confusion.

“He doesn’t. He just...we’ve been packing up her belongings.”

I nod in understanding and follow her upstairs, until we reach her apartment. The first thing that hits my nose, is the familiar scent of lavender. It was Jolene’s favorite perfume from France. For a moment, I half expect my twin to come out and greet me herself, but I only find myself standing awkwardly near the door. I see the boxes in spread out in the living room, filled with various items.

“I’m...I’m very sorry for your loss, Jacqueline.”

I mutter a word of thanks before grabbing a photo frame out of one box. It’s one of Allen, Jolene, and I when we were young children.

_I didn’t even know she had this photo… must have been from mom’s stuff._

“D- -did they tell you how she...how she died?” I barely uttered.

Her eyes widen in shock.

“You mean Allen didn’t tell you?” She blurted out.

I can already feel myself tense up from the implication of her words.

“It was just an accident….right?”

She almost resembles a deer in headlights as she inches closer to me. She shakes her head slowly.

_Oh..._

“Do you wanna sit down?” She mumbled softly. “I can make some tea if you’d like.”

“Actually. I think I’m gonna go lay down.” My voice shook. “C- -could you tell me where Jo’s room is?”

“First door on the right down the hallway. I know this is a shitty way of meeting for the first time, but...I’m Christine.”

I scratch anxiously at my arm as I nod mutely at her. I turn away, taking deep breaths like Brian instructed before walking to Jolene’s room. The first thing I do after dropping my bag is curl up on my sister’s bed and grab her pillow before burying my face and screaming into it.

**FLASH!**

_“Do you dream about leaving? Just...like walking away and never looking back?” Jolene asked._

_“You know that I do.” I mutter softly. “We almost have the money saved up though. We’ll be out of here in no time.”_

_“You think dad will care?”_

_“Oh, he’ll most definitely try to stop us. But we won’t let him, right?” I replied. “It’s you and me against the world.”_

_“Yeah. You an’ me against the world.” Jolene smiled._

_I hold out my pinky finger and smile warmly at my twin._

_“Don’t worry, Jo. Soon, we’ll be out of this fucking dump and away from that asshole.”_

**FLASH!**

_“Jack...I’m so hungry.”_

_“I know…” I sighed._

_“Did you make anything from your last gig?” Jolene asked. “I paid our rent today.”_

_“Jo, I told you we’d split it.” I give her a pointed look. “Anyway, I asked Ted about my money, he won’t say a fuckin’ word about it. I’m gonna have to corner the dick.”_

_“You mean he hasn’t paid you?” Jolene gasped. “What the fuck?!”_

_“Don’t worry. I’ve got this baby.”_

_I grab my newly acquired pistol._

_“If that fucker thinks he’s gonna get away with stealing from me, he’s got another thing coming.”_

_Jolene’s eyes widen drastically, almost comically._

_“Jack! Why the fuck do you have that thing?!” She hissed at me._

_“I’m not actually gonna use it, I don’t even have bullets inside. It’s a scare tactic. But put this puppy near his dick, and he’ll be fucking singing.” I smirked._

_Jolene snorts at my statement and shakes her head as I put the weapon back in my jacket._

_“So...dinner. What do you want for dinner?” I change the subject. “I have about...ten dollars.”_

_“Wow, okay. Um...what can we get?” Jolene smiled._

_“What about McDonald’s? They’re relatively cheap.” I suggested._

_“How did you know I’ve been craving McDonald’s?” Jolene giggled._

_“I mean, it’s not like I’m your twin or anything- -”_

_“If you go on about that twin telepathy shit, I swear I’ll hit you.” Jolene threatened._

_The two of us laugh and get up from the couch, locking up before we leave our apartment._

**FLASH!**

“Hey beanstalk…”

I stir awake as the bed dips down, and feel someone brushing back my hair. My eyes flutter open to see my older brother, definitely more aged and built. His hair is almost as long as Roger’s, and he even sports a light beard. His eyes shimmer with tears as I sit up, the two of us embracing like our lives depended on it.

“Hey, jerkwad.” I mumbled softly.

Pulling back, I look out the window and sighed heavily as I glance at the alarm clock. It’s past six o’clock.

“Fuck...I forgot to call them.” I sighed.

“Your friends?” Allen inquired.

Despite not having seen Allen in years, perhaps almost a decade even, it feels as though it’s only been several months. I find myself relaxing around Allen fairly quickly.

“I mean...I left in the middle of our tour. Or rather, sneaked onto a plane without permission.” I confessed.

Allen’s eyes widen as an uneasy chuckle escaped his lips.

“Y- -you’re joking...right?”

I merely shrug and yawn before standing up.

“Come on, Jack. Don’t brush me off. I haven’t seen you in years. And not under good circumstances either.” Allen muttered.

“You forget all that we’ve been through.” I gruffly reply. “Don’t get me wrong, I missed you too, but...you left us. Never once made an effort to find us. Just left without a trace, without a word.”

“Jo pretty much said this was how you’d react. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Allen sighed.

I narrow my eyes at my older brother.

“What? You expect us to be _peachy keen_ after deserting us?” I snapped.

“And there it is.” Allen clapped his hands together. “You know, everything I wrote to you was _absolutely_ true. I’ve regretted leaving you both for every single second we’ve been apart. But you know what? I was **scared** . I was as scared of that fucking asshole as you were. It doesn’t excuse me entirely, but I thought you’d at least understand that much. I was just a kid too. I- -I didn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t have been able to raise two teenage girls on my own when I was _also_ growing up!”

Hearing Allen cut right to the chase really surprises me. I guess he changed as much as I did over the years. Although hearing him say those words, I actually found logic within them. Maybe Allen didn’t deserve all of the anger I held towards him. It never made it hurt any less though.

“Okay.”

Allen looks ready to argue some more, but pauses once he processes what I’d said. Allen’s eyes brim with tears. The sight nearly breaks my heart.

“Okay? What do you mean, _okay?_ F- -fucking yell at me. I **know** you want to. Tell me how awful of a brother I am. I deserve it.”

It was clear that Allen had suffered as much as I did, but still, I couldn’t find it within me to say anything. Instead, I just shake my head as his bottom lip trembles.

“I think the two of us are suffering enough as it is.” My voice shook.

Once again, Allen and I hug each other again before making our way out of Jolene’s room. Allen shows me where the telephone is and sits down at the couch in the living room with a dejected sigh. My call gets transferred after I reach the receptionist at the hotel.

“ ** _Hello?_ **”

“Hey Deaky, it’s good to hear you.” I greeted.

“ ** _Took you long enough to call us. We were bloody worried, you know._ **”

“I know I just...I fell asleep at Jo’s place...I was exhausted, I’m sorry.” I apologized.

“ ** _....it’s alright. You want me to grab the others real quick? They’re in the middle of Scrabble._ **” He asked.

“What time is it there? I don’t wanna keep you guys up.”

“ ** _It’s one in the morning...but none of us are really tired yet. We’ve just been waiting for your call._ **” Deaky replied.

“Damn. I didn’t realize it was like a seven hour time difference.” I chuckled. “It’s six PM from New York.”

“ ** _So you’re at Jolene’s then? How are you feeling?_ **” John inquired.

“I’m... _awful_. It’s like taking a tormented trip down memory lane, you know? I keep expecting Jolene to just...come out and act like this was all some huge prank. She would fucking do it too.”

I blink away tears and barely hold back a cry.

“ ** _I’m so sorry, sweetheart._ ** ” He mumbled softly. “ ** _I can’t even imagine…_ **”

“I’ll probably lose it if I talk to the others right now. I’m all...emotional. Allen’s here.” I lower my voice to a whisper.

“ ** _You’re sure? I think they’d all like it if you talked to them. Roger is going fucking barmy without you. Freddie is about this close to throwing him out of the window._ **”

“I can only imagine.” I huff out a laugh.

“ ** _I mean, they still don’t know about your marriage with Roger, but the looks on their faces when they saw you two kiss was positively hilarious. Brian’s jaw was practically on the ground, and Freddie’s eyes were the size of bloody dinner plates._ ** ” He mentioned quietly. “ ** _I_** ** _wish you were there when we got back in the taxi. They were both threatening to cut off Roger’s cock if he so much as_ ** **_hurt_ ** **_you, and I was in tears, I kid you not. Roger looked absolutely mortified._ **”

Hearing John’s laughter was delightful, and I could already picture that adorable gap-toothed smile of his. I join in, laughing along with him as I wipe at my eyes again.

“Oh really now?”

John pauses, and I can hear Roger’s voice sounding in the background.

“ ** _It appears I’ve been found out._ ** ” John muttered. “ ** _Well looks like you’re going to be talking to Roger, seeing as he’s currently glaring at me with murderous intent._ **”

“ ** _Oh shush up you! Get your arse over there! It’s your turn in Scrabble anyway!_ ** ” Roger yelled. “ ** _Jack, ya there baby? Wha’ took so bloody long? I kept thinkin’ the plane crashed or something. I don’ even know- -_ **”

“I’m fine, Rog. I’m sorry I didn’t call you right away. Fucking fell asleep.” I sighed. “I hate all of this...it’s weird…”

“ ** _Well yeah, I can imagine so. I jus’ hate that I’m not there with ya. The guys are too...Freddie keeps pacing ‘round the room, almost in the exact same way that ya do. That bird Sandra is drivin’ him bonkers with all sorts of questions about ya._ **” Roger rambled.

I run a hand through my hair before moving to twirl the telephone cord with my finger.

“I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.”

“ ** _No, it’s okay. Jus’...trying to make conversation is all. I miss you._ **”

“I miss you too. I just... _none_ of this feels real. It just feels like one of those nightmares you can’t wake up from, you know?” I breathed out.

“ ** _Yeah…_ **”

“Listen...you were right to be mad at me the night we played at Rainbow. I...I only wanted to forget. Or just...put Jolene out of my mind, even if it was only like two to three hours. I feel so fucking stupid even just telling you this…you already knew something was up.”

For several seconds, I wait for a response, only to be met with pure silence. I could tell that he was genuinely surprised I even brought this up, or he could have become pissed off.

“Roger?” I spoke up.

“ ** _Sorry...just...yeah._ ** ” Roger spluttered. “ ** _I mean, don’ feel stupid, I’m glad y- -you’re- -you know, comin’ to me ‘bout it. You know you can always come to me about anythin’. I know I can act like a right arsehole, but it’s only because I worry about you. I hate seein’ you so...vulnerable and...and sad. An’ scared. You always look so scared, and I just...I just wanna protect you more than anythin’- -_ **”

I can feel my grip on the phone tighten as Roger stammers. He was only ever so... _talkative_  whenever he was drinking heavily or smoking weed. Had he been stressed because of me?

“Are you okay, Rog? Same goes both ways....if you ever wanna just talk, I’m here. Don’t be afraid of reaching out to me.” I timidly told him.

“ ** _N- -no! Don’t be changin’ the subject on me, young lady! I’ll be asking th’ bloody questions now!_ **”

A giggle escapes my lips.

“Roger? Are you drunk right now?”

“ ** _...don’ judge me. I’ve been worried sick ‘bout you. Now come on...talk to me…I miss you._ **”

“You sure this conversation shouldn’t wait until you’re sober?” I lower my voice.

“ ** _Wait- -Bri! Get off of me! You fuckin’ wanker! I’m talkin’ to my girl- -!_ **”

My eyes widen as Roger exclaims this, and I wonder immediately if Roger had told the others about our marriage. I can hear shuffling and whining in the background before it becomes just a bit more quiet.

“ ** _Sorry about him, Jack. I figured you needed a little bit of a break, Roger is a bit plastered at the moment if you couldn’t already tell. I think he’s just...anxious about your absence._ **” Brian admitted.

“It’s okay. How are you guys doing? You have the uh...the show for Helsinki tomorrow right? Or is it tonight? I forget the fucking time difference…”

“ ** _Yeah, you’re right Helsingin Kultur...hold on, I’m trying to remember how to pronounce it. The Helsingin_ ** **_Kulttuuritalo_ ** **_. We’re about to leave for Finland soon actually. I’m glad we got ahold of you before we left._ ** ” Brian mentioned. “ ** _Are you staying at your brother’s? If you give me the number, I can call you from the hotel when we get there._ **”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

“Actually no...I’m staying at my sister’s apartment. Have to clean everything out anyway.” I exhaled deeply.

“ ** _I know this is probably a dumb bloody question, one you’ve already heard too much I’m sure...but how are you feeling?_ **” Brian asked concernedly.

“I mean, after about my ten hour plane ride to this fucking city, I basically screamed into a pillow on my dead sister’s bed before crying myself to sleep just hours earlier before I came face to face with my absent-for-years older brother. I’m about as fine as you’d expect.” I quipped in one breath.

“ ** _....wow. That’s a lot to unpack._ **” Brian let out a nervous chuckle.

I glance at my older brother sitting on the couch from across the room. With how he directly looks at me, I wonder if he heard just about everything I said. I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty.

“No kidding.” I muttered. “I feel like absolute shit. But...thank you for asking, Brian. I appreciate it.”

“ ** _I mean, you’re one of my best mates, Jack...I love you._ **” Brian replied.

“I love you too, you big sap.” I smiled faintly. “I’m sorry about how I acted before at our last show…”

“ ** _I’m not even mad about it anymore. I just want you back home as soon as possible. It’s stupid...the fighting...I hate it. All of it. I- -I’m not completely as nuts about the topic as Roger, but I don’t like you hanging around with Paul either. You and Fred have certainly changed. You’ve been...doing more drugs. Different drugs. It’s not just weed anymore. I’m worried about you, sweetheart._ **” Brian confessed.

I run a hand through my hair.

“I’m not getting into this with you right now.” I shake my head.

“ ** _But we will be discussing this. That’s not an option either. If we need to have a goddamn intervention for you and Fred, so be it. But you’re right. I’ll drop it for now....you definitely have a lot going on right now. You must be feeling overwhelmed...I wish we were there with you. I feel terrible that you’re all alone right now._ **”

“...I mean, I’m not completely alone. I’ve got Allen...I guess. I don’t know how to feel about any of it. It just hasn’t really sunk in yet...that Jolene is gone.” I sighed. “And I’m trying my best not to snap at Allen. All of the anger just...it came back all at once. I thought I was starting to forgive him...I don’t know anymore.” My voice shook.

“ ** _It’s okay, luv. What you’re feeling is okay. And you’re trying to fix your relationship with your brother at least, and I’m_ ** **_so_ ** **_proud of you for that. I think...no, I’m absolutely sure that your sister would be proud too._ **” Brian assured me.

At this, I can feel my eyes sting, and I accidentally tug on the phone chord a bit too roughly.

“...thanks Brian.” I barely uttered.

“ ** _Listen, after tomorrow, we won’t be playing until December 2nd at Munich. You do whatever you need to get done. We’ll be waiting for you, sweetheart. Take your time._ ** ” Brian reminded me. “ ** _Did you still want to talk to Freddie? You both could use a good chat, I’m sure._ **”

I glance at Allen from the corner of my eye again. He wears a solemn expression on his face as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Actually I think I’m gonna hop off the phone. I’ll talk to you guys later. I’ve been keeping a certain someone waiting.” I responded.

“ ** _Make sure you take deep breaths and remain calm, yeah? We love you. Be safe._ **”

I give Brian the phone number to Jolene’s apartment before I end the conversation there and hang up the phone. Allen looks absolutely dejected as I move to sit with him on the couch.

“I take it you pretty much heard almost everything I said.”

“Just about.” Allen nodded. “I can’t even really be mad though. We’re both a little...I’d say our old man really fucked up all three of us after ma died.”

I nod in agreement as I take out my joint and open a window nearby before moving to sit out on the fire escape. After a minute of confusion, Allen quickly locates me, before coming to join. He sits along the cold metal with me, resting his arms along the cold metal railing as he leans forward. After my third hit, I offer Allen my joint. He graciously takes it, inhaling a good amount in one hit.

“I still can’t believe this is happening.” I divulged.

“Yeah….I’m just in... _denial_ . I was just talking to her two weeks ago. Christine wasn’t even aware about Jolene until just days ago. She just...she just _assumed_ that Jolene was working so much that she rarely saw her.” Allen spat out.

His blinks away tears angrily, not even bothering to look back in the apartment for Christine. It was clear that Allen held hostility towards her.

“I’m sorry I called you before your show. I just...I- -I didn’t know who else to call. I was a fucking wreck.” Allen sniffled. “I still am.”

I take another hit before passing it to him.

“It wasn’t an accident was it? Christine basically implied that. W- -was she... _did she suffer?_ ”

I choke back a sob, my body shaking as I struggle to keep my emotions intact. With Allen visibly crying, it was growing harder to hold it all in.

“It was a mugging.” Allen whispered. “She was on her way home from a late shift from that diner she worked at. S- -she never saw it coming....”

A whimper escapes my lips as I hold my hand to my chest and clench my eyes shut. My head is swimming as I picture the horrified images in my mind. Of someone coming up from behind my sister brandishing a knife and just…

_I felt it...I think...I had a stabbing pain in my chest that one night...just a week before our last concert in London….oh God...my baby sister…_

“ _F- -fucking_ **_shit_ ** _._ ” I cried.

Allen wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side.

* * *

 

_December 1st, 1974…_

 

It all felt so...surreal. That was the perfect word to describe all of _this._ Maybe it was because all of it was so sudden, maybe it was because in my mind, it hadn’t been that long since I talked to my sister. Either way, the fact that Jolene was...gone, it **really** had not sunk in yet. Even as I temporarily stay in Jolene’s bedroom of the apartment she’d been living in, even as I sleep in her bed, and even as I pack away Jolene’s belongings and have them shipped to my home back in London- -

_In my mind, I couldn’t accept that my baby sister was just..._ **_gone_ ** _. Just like that._

Honestly, all I can feel is a bitterness slowly stewing inside of me. That hole that my father created, that gaping hole in my heart, that emptiness was growing tenfold with each passing second of being back in Brooklyn. Was it because all I’d ever experienced living in this city, since my mother was killed in a car accident, was nothing but torment? Jolene’s death was just the icing on the cake really. I absolutely _hated_ this city, considering all it ever did was take everything from me.

_It took away my mother in a car accident, or should I say a hit and run. Then, it took my father’s sanity, it turned him into this monster. And now...now it’s taken away my best friend, my sister. How long would it be until Allen was gone?_

“I know this is probably a really dumb question, but how are you feeling?” Christine asked.

I stare into my mug of coffee with a blank expression.

“I mean, it feels like someone mugged my twin sister for eight dollars and left her to bleed out on the sidewalk.” I quipped.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Christine wince.

“Listen...I’m _really_ sorry about Jolene. I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but...she was also like a sister to me.” She muttered softly. “The only reason I didn’t report her missing is because...she used to disappear completely for days on end. She was pretty hush-hush when it came to her work.” Christine confessed.

I find myself genuinely surprised upon hearing those words from Christine. My face softens, as I give Christine a look of sympathy.

“Allen neglected to mention that.” I merely said.

“Yeah, well Allen fucking hates me so that’s no surprise there.” She huffed out a dry laugh. “He kept blaming me, like I should have _known_ something was wrong. The thing was, Jo stayed at random strangers houses like _all_ the time. So I was used to her being gone for long periods of time, you know?”

I nod in understanding and lean forward to look at Christine in curiosity. She quickly picks up on my intrigue, and takes this as a cue to keep talking. Christine seemed like a lot of things, but a liar didn’t seem to be one of them. Allen and Jolene couldn’t really get away with anything when we were kids, and you wanna know why? Because they couldn’t lie for shit.

For hours on end, as Christine helps me go through Jolene’s things, she tells me more things about Jolene that I hadn’t even known about. Jolene told me about her two part time jobs as a waitress in a dead restaurant and as a receptionist in a dental office. The third job that my sister never told me about, was one that Christine had discovered on accident two months before her death. Jolene was a hooker, and escort of sorts.

_What else had Jolene kept from me?_

By the time we finish shipping the rest of Jolene’s things at the post office, I come back to her barren and empty room. Christine, as presumptuous and vain as she appeared to be, had exceeded my expectations. This twenty four year old girl was smart and had a heart of gold. To be honest, I could see why Jolene would get along with her so well as I found myself liking her too.

After almost two days of clearing everything having to do with my sister, Allen and I plan the funeral. Although, it’s not planning, but rather arguing. Neither of us really had the money for a proper funeral, and I could tell from the look on his face that he doesn’t believe me. Even with Queen’s recent success from our Sheer Heart Attack album, all of us were in debt and struggling to make money because our contract with Trident and EMI. Not that I explained the concept to Allen, considering I was still on the fence about him.

In the end, because it was more affordable, we got Jolene’s body cremated and bought her an urn that both of us approved of. My baby sister’s funeral ended up being something small, after we received permission from a church to use their space for a couple of hours. We only invite Jolene’s colleagues and several members of our mother and father’s family, about less than thirty people. My stomach churns with anxiety as well as resentment as people begin to file into the church.

Random strangers approach us and offer their sympathies and condolences. While I verbally say thank you, it feels forced and insincere. I can feel myself shaking with nerves as I tap my foot repeatedly. More than anything, I wish my family, my _real_ family, were here with me.

During the funeral proceedings, Allen and I are seemingly distant from each other despite standing next to one another the entire time. As I stand next to the podium with Allen during his eulogy, I tune everything out. I just keep my gaze on the blown up picture of our sister smiling brightly. Jolene looked so radiant and beautiful, so unlike myself that people could tell us apart, which is why I loved this photo so much. At the reminder it brought though, my stomach churns.

“- -so while it’s going to be difficult living without our amazing sister in our lives, I know deep down that she isn’t truly gone. Not _really_. I’d like to believe that...that Jolene is watching over us right now.” Allen finished.

Allen steps away from the podium, and I can feel my heartbeat pick up its pace as my older brother gives me an expectant look. Allen clearly wants me to say something for Jolene as well, but honestly, I don’t know if I can. Were there any words I could provide that would do Jolene any justice? How could I be expected to talk about Jolene knowing that I hadn’t physically seen her for almost seven years?

_Especially with everything I’d discovered about her not that long ago?_

My entire body shakes with nerves as I move to stand behind the podium. My hands twitch nervously at my sides, and I crave a joint more than anything right now. Allen’s expression melts into one of concern as he places a hand on my arm in support. I see a glimpse of the older brother I used to know, and find small comfort in it.

“I won’t bother saying how great or amazing Jolene was, because Allen already did. Honestly, I’m still processing that this is actually happening. I keep expecting my sister to walk through that fucking door and tell me how this was some huge elaborate prank to get back at me for...for not seeing her sooner. But this story doesn't have a happy ending. Not that I’m surprised at all.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before looking to the portrait of Jolene.

“All I ever wanted to do was forget about my childhood...and I made a promise to Jolene that our lives would change for the better once we left our father.” I mumbled softly. “But the pain, the reminders that this city gave me...it became too much for me to handle. When I suggested that we move far away, Jolene had joked about wanting to visit England. But then I thought, ‘ _Well, why not?’_ So I applied to a university, Ealing Art College...and...I got accepted. Full scholarship and everything. The only problem was...Jolene didn’t get accepted.”

Tears brim into my eyes, but I don’t waver.

“I’d never been apart from Jolene since birth, and I’m not joking about that. Allen used to joke about us being conjoined twins since we were practically attached to the hip.”

This earns a chuckle from several people.

“I was going to decline the scholarship and put all of it behind me. Only...I found out that Jolene had enrolled me and gathered up enough money to purchase a plane ticket, behind my back of course. She knew I needed to go...even if she couldn’t afford to come with me.”

My hands continue to twitch nervously at my sides.

“If I had to say anything at all about Jolene, or how **I** remember her as...I’d say that she was generous. She had a heart of gold, she had a beautiful personality, and...she was amazing. She was...she was my _everything_. My sweet Jolene…” I concluded.

I glance at the portrait of my sister again.

“...why did it have to be her?” I mumbled softly.

As I step away from the small podium, the priest starts us off with a prayer. Like Allen’s eulogy, I start to tune things out. I can feel my heart pound with every shaking breath I take.

* * *

_December 2, 1974 at Munich, Germany..._

 

Flying to Germany was roughly eight hours, and I left well after the funeral. Allen decided to host the wake at his home, to which he then proceeded to tell me that he bought the house that we had once lived in together as children. The place that practically fueled my nightmares. So without really telling Allen, I took Jolene’s ashes with me after calling Brian and letting him know I was finally on my way to meet with them.

When I make it to the airport in Munich, it’s well into one in the morning. I step outside and shiver from the cold winter air as I hold the urn containing Jolene’s ashes protectively. In the distance, I make out Roger and Brian, who appear to be searching for me. As soon as they spot me, they quickly make their way over and proceed to hug me.

“Hey guys.” I greet with a faint smile. “How have the show’s been?”

“They weren’t nearly the same without you, I can guarantee you that.” Brian replied without a beat.

Roger chuckles at Brian’s brutal honesty, but he doesn’t show any signs of disagreement. Roger wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me towards him. After he places a loving kiss to my cheek, I feel my face grow warm. I avert my gaze as Brian merely raises an eyebrow at Roger’s display of affection.

_God this is gonna be awkward..._

“Well Helsinki was nice, but...it would have been _nicer_ with you there.” Roger told me.

“Yeah, well…”

I show them the urn in my arms, and immediately, they look saddened. Brian is quick to place a comforting hand on my arm before gently stroking it.

“I’m so sorry, Jack.” Brian muttered.

“We couldn’t really afford anything else.” I sighed. “Hopefully Jolene doesn’t haunt my ass for cremating her...”

“You didn’t really tell us much over the phone. How was your brother?” Roger inquired.

“He’s fine...although Allen neglected to tell me he purchased that fucking house. He’s been living there all this time.” I grumbled.

“What house?” Brian hesitantly asked.

All three of us start walking together towards the taxi waiting for us.

“My childhood home- -you know what? No. That place was rather just a house than it was a _home_.” I scoffed lightly. “Allen bought _the house_ though, said my father was evicted only a couple of months after Jolene and I left him. He had her wake there after the funeral. I don't know why he thought buying that hellhole was smart.”

“Did you go?” Roger questioned.

“Fuck no.” I shook my head. “That place is where all my _anxiety_ fucking stems from. I would have been triggered the moment I set foot inside. Not that Allen seems to give a shit apparently, seeing as he told me his _‘address’_ at the last minute.”

Brian and Roger look to me with worry as we begin piling inside the taxi together. Brian gives the hotel’s address to the taxi driver. The drive for the next several minutes is filled with silence.

“He doesn’t know you have Jolene, does he?” Roger muttered.

“No. I wasn’t about to let him take her there. I...I _promised_ her we’d never look back, that we’d never set foot in that house again.” I sharply replied.

Roger gently moves to intertwine our hands together, before lifting my hand to place a kiss on top of my knuckles. Immediately, I feel guilty for snapping at Roger, and look at him apologetically.

“Jack...you should probably talk to Allen when you get the chance. Maybe he bought that house for a reason.” Brian sighed.

“Frankly, I don’t **care** why he bought that house, but I’m _never_ stepping inside of it for as long as I live. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise.” I retorted. “New York City is dead to me.”

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Roger quickly suggested. “Mary called us since she didn’t know how to get a hold of you. Said she got some packages inside the flat for you like you asked her to?”

“Yeah.” I mumbled. “Jolene’s things...have to go through _all_ of it after the tour is over. Allen thought I should be the one to do it.”

Roger squeezes my hand gently, and begins rubbing circles along my knuckles with his thumb. For some reason, it reminds me of how Brian would touch me, back when we were dating. It was an intimate and loving gesture. But one that would always soothe me.

“I think it’s safe to assume that these past several days have been exhausting to everyone, yeah?” Roger hummed.

Brian and I exchange a look before nodding in complete agreement.

“You can bet your sweet ass that I’m sleeping in my room for the day. The show isn’t until later at night, right?” I yawned lightly.

“Yup.” Brian nodded. “But I hope you’ll spare a few minutes once we get to the hotel. Fred and John wanted to see you.”

“Sure…” I look down.

“Jack...they’ve been worried sick about you. Don’t be like that.” Brian frowned.

I barely hold back another yawn as I meet Brian’s eyes. Much like myself, I could tell that Brian was tired, and it wasn’t just because of the tour.

“Sorry, I’m just...I’m emotionally and physically drained right now, Bri. I’m ready to shut down.” I admitted. “If you couldn’t already tell from my bitchy attitude.”

“I mean, from what you’ve gone through the past week, I completely understand.” Brian sighed. “I’ve been at that point myself. Used to shut myself away in my room- -”

“We know, you forget that we’ve been on the receiving end of it before.” Roger lightly teased.

“Alright.” I give him a curt nod. “So what do you guys wanna know? I’m honestly too tired to beat around the bush, so take advantage while you can.”

For a brief minute, Brian and Roger seem uncertain as well as nervous. I can tell that they don’t want to say the wrong thing to me, especially not while I was in such a bad mood. If I wasn’t already so tired, I would have felt guilty.

“How are you feeling for starters? This past week must have been horrible for you.” Brian asked concernedly.

“Like absolute garbage.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes like it’s obvious before gesturing to the urn I’m currently holding in my lap.

“I just had a funeral for my twin sister and I’m currently holding her ashes, how the hell do you think I’m feeling, Bri? These past two weeks have been the absolute worst of my entire life. I lost my best friend and soulmate. And because of some asshole that mugged her for _eight_ dollars. But I heard the hard way that there’s not gonna be a trial for him, and you wanna know why? The fucker hung himself in jail after they found him. Am I just supposed to pretend everything is okay while there’s no justice for my baby sister?” I growled.

While Roger and Brian look to me with wide eyes, I fall back into my seat with a crestfallen sigh.

_I need to calm the fuck down. Maybe some sleep would **really** do me some good right now. _

“I’m sorry, I haven’t really slept well these past couple of days. You guys didn’t deserve... _whatever_ that was.” I apologized.

“It’s okay….honestly? It’s a start.” Brian replied shakily. “But if you ever want to rant to us or...or have a good cry, just…. _come_ to us. Don’t just shoulder it and keep everything bottled in. It’s not good for you, sweetheart.”

At Brian’s statement, I can’t help but chuckle dryly.

“I haven’t cried since Allen told me what happened to her. I- -I couldn’t even cry during her funeral. People just...they gave me the dirtiest looks like I was so uncaring, but I...I was just trying to- -no, _I still am_ , trying to process that this is all **real**.” I confessed. “That this isn’t just some fucked up fantasy or alternate reality. I had to pause so many times because I was so close to blacking out and...having one of those episodes.”

“Wow.” Roger whistled lowly.

“But...I think it should mostly be out of my system I’d say.” I assured them. “So if you’re both wondering if I’m able to perform, I _think_ I’ll be okay. Speaking of which, how has handling Norman been? Did Sandra given you guys any trouble?”

Almost looking relieved from the change in subject, Roger gives me a small smile and tucks his hair behind his ear.

“Well...Sandra was a bit…” Brian shifted uncomfortably.

“We ended up not using her.” Roger supplied.

Our conversation is cut short as we make it to the hotel. Brian helps carry my bag as I hold the urn protectively once again. Slinging an arm around my shoulder, Roger acts as a shield as we avoid talking to anyone on our way to the elevator. By the time we make it to my room, we find Freddie and John drunkenly shouting at each other over a game of _Go-Fish._ It was so utterly ridiculous that I can’t help but laugh.

As soon as they spot me, Roger gently but quickly maneuvers the urn out of my arms just before I’m practically tackled by Freddie. I silently thank Roger and wrap my arms around Fred just as John joins in. Before Freddie can question me about anything, Brian gives our friend a shake of his head as a warning to drop the subject for now. Internally, I’m showering Brian with praise for sparing me from more emotional bullshit.

From there, the hours pass by quickly, all of us slowly getting reacquainted with one another over beers, several games of Scrabble, and the garbage we watch on TV. Just being around my family has me far more relaxed and at ease since my departure. When I finally start nodding off at around five in the morning, I glance up at the urn placed carefully along the nightstand as I drunkenly make my way in bed, before gently brushing my fingers against it. I can hear the hushed whispers of Freddie, Deaky, Brian, and Roger just as I fall asleep, but I can’t find myself to care and tune them out.

“She’s been suicidal before.” Deaky admitted quietly.

Fred’s eyes widen with panic.

“She acted so nonchalant and blase about the whole thing, it was...it was on the day she went to that therapist while we were recording our album. She admitted to trying to drown herself in the tub...just as we got to the flat, but...she sounded like she was regretful about it.” He explained.

“And you didn’t _say_ anything because of why exactly?” Roger nearly hissed at him.

Deaky winces from Roger’s harsh tone, but he doesn’t falter.

“I made her promise that she’d come to me if she ever felt that way again. And she agreed that she would.”

“We’re talking about the same woman that’s tried to hide her newly acquired drug habits?” Roger retorted.

Seeing the annoyed and angered look from Freddie, Roger sighs heavily in vexation.

“Sorry, that’s another conversation for a different time, but you get my point right? She’s so...prideful and stubborn. She’ll keep everything bottled in until she explodes, and we’ve been on the receiving end of  _that_ way too many times- -”

“Pot calling the kettle black.” Brian quipped with a tense smile.

“Oh sod off, Brian. I was going to say that she ends up self-inducing those anxiety attacks. With all of the stress that she keeps building onto herself.” Roger explained.

Mulling over the blonde’s words, everyone nods in agreement. Each of them pause to take another swig of their beer.

“So we know she’s at least thought about...you know.” Brian frowned.

“She hasn’t _just_ thought about it, Brian, she actually attempted to do it once. At least that we _know_ of.” John grumbled.

“Right…” Brian sighed. “So what do we do then?”

“Keep a closer eye on her for starters.” Freddie chose his words carefully. “She needs us more than ever, dears. I promised her sister that I’d look out for her and I think I’ve done a shit job so far...”

They all perk up at this, looking confused and curious all at once.

“Before she died. Jolene called up the flat once, right before I moved in with Mary.” The singer elaborated.

Glancing at the urn, Freddie quickly wipes at his eyes.

“She sounded like a lovely girl. The poor dear didn’t deserve to leave this world so early...” Freddie barely uttered.

“No...she didn’t.” Brian muttered. “But we’ll just have to keep that promise then.”

“Right. Of course.” Fred’s voice wavered.

Roger places a gentle yet firm hand on Fred’s arm in an attempt to comfort him.

“Did Jacqueline say...how she...you know?” John muttered softly.

Roger downs the rest of his beer before setting the bottle on the table.

“A mugging.” He gruffly responded. “The attacker is dead though, hung himself in jail.”

Freddie and John look to Roger with wide eyes. Roger shifts uncomfortably in his seat as well, because even the mere thought of it was unsettling.

“Listen, it’ll be alright. We’ll all get through this together.” Roger said. “It **won’t** be easy, but...we can do it.”

“Oh you’re right about that...it’ll be far from simple and easy.” John remarked. “Especially after hearing _that_.”

* * *

When I wake up, it’s almost three in the afternoon and I feel like I’d been run over by a truck. I stretch my body and yawn as I go to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Jack? You there, darlin'?”

I resist the urge to groan in annoyance and walk over to the door before nearly throwing it open to reveal Paul. I probably look like a right mess, bed-head complete with bags under my eyes.

_Ah, Paul. I missed you more than I care to admit._

“Damn, you’ve surely seen better days. How are you feelin’? Better? Norman keeps callin’ to ask about ya, heard you were in America or somethin’. I knew the lad was goin’ crazy.” Paul smiled warmly. “Why the hell he thought you were in America is beyond me.”

_Shit, how did Norman figure it out?_

“I don’t fuckin’ know, I’ve been feelin’ like absolute horseshit for the past couple of days. But I think the spell is finally broken. I’ll be ready to perform by tonight, just need to gather my bearings.” I lied smoothly.

“Good, good.” Paul nodded happily. “I got you something. Mind if I come in?”

I quickly nod, pulling Paul inside my room before quickly checking out the hall and shutting my door to lock it.

“Feel free to sit down, I’m just gonna change real quick.” I told him.

Paul makes himself comfortable and sits on the edge of my bed as I get undressed several feet away from him. After taking off my jeans, I go over to my bag and take out some clean clothes before slipping into them. As I turn around, Paul already has a variety of drugs sprawled around my bed.

“Holy shit.” I mutter in surprise.

“Take your pick. I’ve got LSD, that one’s real nice. There’s also ecstasy, and I’ve got coke also...and some grass if you feel like smoking instead.” Paul gestured.

“How long have we got before the show?”

“About….five hours? We’ve got plenty of time.” Paul replied.

_I doubt I should be doing this, but I frankly don’t give a flying fuck._

“Alright. Well...what do you recommend?” I asked.

“The LSD worked real nice for me. I got this from a good lad I know.”

_My other drug dealer wouldn't be happy that I've been dealing with someone else..._

Before I can decide, I hear abrupt knocking. Both Paul and I tense up, before quickly moving to clean up. By the time I open the door, I see Roger and Freddie standing together. Roger hands me a coffee cup as he makes his way inside with Fred.

“Hey lads.” Paul greeted with a smile.

Roger tenses up and openly glares at the Irishman before looking to me almost suspiciously. I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes as I greet Roger and Freddie with a kiss to their cheeks.

“Oh Paul! I was wondering where you were.” Freddie grinned. “Doesn’t our lovely Brooklyn Jaybird look better today?”

“She does. I just wanted to drop in and see how she was doin’. You’ve kept her holed up from everyone for so long.” Paul teased.

“You guys are making me blush, _really_.” I mutter dryly.

I smile as I take a sip from the coffee cup. I watch Fred and Paul fondly as they converse and go over small details regarding our concert tonight. I’m roused from my thoughts as Roger wraps an arm around my waist before placing a loving kiss to my cheek.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to get brunch. Brian and Deaks are waiting in the car.” Roger said.

“I uh…” My smile faltered. “Sure. That sounds nice.” I nodded.

With his gaze still lingering on Paul suspiciously, Roger asks me a question.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? Still not feeling good then?”

Already, I can feel myself grow become stiff with annoyance from his extreme protectiveness of me. I couldn’t help but think that this was something that became more frequent over the past two years, since Paul had been assisting the band. I mean _sure_ , one could view this as a close friend being extremely protective in nature, but at times….Roger came off as _possessive_. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

“It’s nothing.” I curtly reply.

Sensing my change in tone, Freddie raises a questioning eyebrow before quickly intervening.

“Well, we’ll just be getting something to eat then, dear. Maybe get my poor Brooklyn Jaybird to finally stretch those wings after days of being sick. It’s something to celebrate of course.” Freddie happily mentioned.

“Yeah, of course.” Paul chuckled. “Go stretch those wings then. Just be sure to be back by 5:30.”

I glance over to Roger and Fred.

“I’m gonna go grab my bag, you guys go on ahead.” I spoke casually.

Paul walks slowly after Fred and Roger exit the room, but is fast to turn to me.

“You want me to give you anything before the show?” Paul asked.

“I’m not ready for the LSD, but you can give me whatever.” I shrugged.

Paul fidgets in his spot before pulling me into a hug.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since I heard the news...about your sister. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. _Anything_ you need, just come and ask me. I’ll always be there for you, sweetheart.” Paul mumbled softly.

After returning the hug, I give Paul a small but kind smile.

“Thanks, Paul.”

Grabbing my purse as well as a fur coat from Freddie, I quickly go into the bathroom mirror and fix my makeup with minor adjustments. Looking pleased with my appearance, I grab my sunglasses and place them on before following Paul out of my room. Freddie and Roger wait just down the hall near the elevator, looking at the two of us skeptically as Paul walks in the opposite direction. Once again, Roger slings an arm around my shoulder as if it practically belonged there.  

“I find it amusing that the both of you are wearing shades despite that it’s winter.” Freddie teased.

“I have sensitive eyes.” We spoke in unison.

Freddie bites his bottom lip as he leans towards me.

“So, what did Paul give you?” Fred smirked.

“What makes you think he gave me anything? He was just concerned about me, apparently after not having seen me for days. Why did you guys end up not using Sandra?” I chuckled.

“Sandra was...well to put it in better terms- -” Roger stammered.

“She was...fairly frightening. Like, apparently she was borderline obsessed with you. So we ended up sending her home, because _that’s_ just trouble waiting to happen.” Freddie answered truthfully.

_Well shit. How ‘frightening’ are we talking about here?_

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to change the subject about Paul. Sandra is gone, so that’s done and over with. So what did Paul give you? Anything good?” Fred hummed lightly.

“Well I _would have_ tried the LSD Paul offered, but you and Roger came along before that happened.” I shrugged.

“Paul’s got LSD? Well damn it. He’s been holding back from me- -” Freddie grumbled.

“ _Fred_.” Roger glared at him.

“Listen, if you want to experiment, come to me instead of Paul. I’d feel better knowing you’re in safe hands, darling. Not that I don’t trust Paul with you, he’s quite a lovely man...” Fred suggested.

Roger sighs heavily, but doesn’t offer a retort this time.

“Yeah, if you wanna join Paul and I, feel free. I don’t mind and neither does he.” I assured them.

“You don’t need that shit. It’ll fuck with your brain, luv.” Roger sighed.

“And I don’t need you being incredibly protective of me, Taylor. It’s gotten ridiculous over the past few years and at first I was chalking it up to you being a- -” I blurted out.

Roger drops his arm from around my shoulders and gives me a look of hurt. The image of Roger right now almost completely resembles a saddened looking puppy.

“Being a _what?_ I care about you, Jack. Forgive me for trying to look out for you.”

I can’t help but sigh deeply.

_Damn him for being so adorable..._

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just hurting on the inside right now.” I admitted. “It’s not conventional, but whatever Paul gives me...it helps lessen the pain. Even if it’s for a few short hours.”

“Well I don’t like that you’ve been doing it consistently before every show. Sometimes you get so close to hurting yourself mid-performance that you give us all a bloody heart attack.” Roger mentioned.

“I don’t do it before _every_ show. I just use it as needed.” I argued.

“Which is before almost every show we’ve had.” Roger pointed out.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that- -”

“ ** _I_  **would. And I know for a fact that Brian and Deaky agree with me.”

“What about me?” Freddie pouted.

“Fred, you’re practically in the same boat as Jack. You two have us worried.” Roger explained. “I think you're both becoming hopelessly addicted and it’s getting really bad.”

_Of course we’re having this conversation literally the day I come back from New York after a week._

“Don’t shake your head at me, you both know I’m right.” Roger glared at me.

“Roger, you’re being utterly ridiculous.” Freddie rolled his eyes. “So she does a little coke here and there...and maybe some ecstasy...you all act like it’s the end of the world. Let her live a little. We’ll just monitor how much she takes, _problem solved_.”

Funnily enough, it was a nice change of pace for Fred to be so supportive considering how defensive and reluctant he had been about letting me leave for New York.

_Jesus Christ, Freddie is like my only support right now. What would I do without him?_

This time, Freddie drapes a supportive arm around my shoulder and pulls me towards him. With his other hand, Fred gently grabs my chin and turns me to face him.

“Jacqueline dear, I need you to _promise_ me that you’ll come to me first before you think about going to Paul for anything.” Fred requested. “I won’t stop you from taking anything, but I think it’d put all of us at ease if _one_ of us was with you to make sure nothing...seriously wrong happens. It might be a little fun, and it might set your mind at ease for a couple hours. But fuck up and it becomes _dangerous_. We say this out of **love** , because we know how much you’re hurting right now, darling. We’re not trying to control you. It’s as Roger said, we’re just looking out for you.”

Hearing this kind of explanation from Fred makes sense to me. Unlike the others, Freddie wasn’t begging me to stop, he wasn’t trying to control every decision I made, and he definitely wasn’t making me feel bad about my choices. So I give Freddie a reassuring nod, and agree to his little promise. As we step out of the elevator and exit the hotel, we find Brian and John waiting patiently at the taxi.

Piling into the car, Roger doesn’t so much as look at my direction, and sits away from me. Brian and John immediately notice the change in attitude, but don’t say anything to avoid any type of conflict or argument knowing how angered Roger seems. So for the next several minutes, the car is filled with such uncomfortable silence and tension.

“So how are you feeling today? You get enough rest I hope?” Deaky spoke up.

With a nudge from Fred, I realize Deaky is speaking to me and give our youngest band member a small smile.

“I’m still exhausted as all hell, a bit jet-lagged...but I’ll be fine for tonight.” I replied.

“Did uh...you guys have _the_ talk?” Brian reluctantly asked. “Judging from Roger’s silence, I can say it went about as well as I expected it to.”

“Don’t worry, dear. We came to an agreement.” Fred answered for me.

“I would say that’s good, but Roger looks ready to punch someone bloody. No offense, mate.” Brian glanced at Roger.

“It’s fine.” Roger spat out. “I’m just too _overprotective_ is all.”

Under his breath, I can make out, “ _It’s not like we’re married or anything._ ”

_Oh my fucking God. Is that what this is? He’s just- -_

“What was that?” Brian raised an eyebrow.

Before Roger can respond, the taxi comes to a stop at the nearest restaurant. All of us exit the vehicle and pay the driver before walking inside. After we’re seated from the waitress, Roger deliberately chooses the spot furthest away from me. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the blonde.

“Roger.”

Roger pretends to look entranced by the menu.

_I'm too exhausted for this bullshit right now..._

“ _Roger Meddows Taylor._ ” I barked out.

Hearing my change in tone, Roger’s breath hitches as he finally looks to me darkly.

“Outside. **Now**.” I demanded.

Hopping out of the booth, both of us storm to the entrance and walk out, practically feeling everyone’s eyes on us.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” I nearly shouted.

“Oh fucking sod off!” Roger snapped.

“ _This_ is why I didn’t want to marry you! I told you I didn’t want things to change between us, but clearly they have!” I hissed quietly at him. “What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“What? You don’t want anyone to know we’re _married?!_ HEY! Guess what, world?! **I’m married to Jacqueline Louise Walker!** ”

“Roger! _What the fuck?!_ ” I screamed.

“You’re embarrassed of me too?! Well you should’ve known what you were getting into- -”

“You’re one of my best friends! _Why_ would I be embarrassed of you?! All of this because I said you’re overprotective?! Are you serious right now?! And just for the fucking record, _you’re_ the one that wanted to keep us a secret!”

“ _You’re fucking impossible!_ ”

“Pot calling kettle black, Taylor- -”

“Oh shut up!”

Angrily storming over to me, he grabs the back of my head and crushes our lips together. It’s not sweet and chaste, but full of passion and anger. Our teeth clash together as both of us fight for domination. With one hand, Roger pulls me until our hips are flush against each other, and I shudder as I feel that prominent bulge. Weaving a hand through his thick blonde hair, I harshly tug his head back until our lips are just an inch apart.

“You think I’m embarrassed of you? Who am I kissing right now out in public?” I growled.

A whine escapes his throat.

“M- -me.” Roger stammers.

“Damn right I am.”

Kissing him again, Roger’s other hand slides down between us before resting along my hip. I grind into his erection, suddenly feeling empowered for the first time in weeks. I relish in Roger’s whimper as his entire body shudders, and heatedly bite down on his bottom lip again before pulling back.

“We’re going back in that restaurant. We can finish this shit when we get back to the hotel. Right now, I want you to stop being a _goddamn brat._ ”

Roger frantically nods, trying to chase after my lips. I quickly pull away from him though, giving him a warning look. I grab his hand, pulling him with me after he adjusts his trousers. Joining the others back in the booth, Roger sits next to me this time, completely silent and dazed.

“If you two are finished acting like animals in heat, we ordered drinks for you.” Freddie smirked.

I move my hand underneath the table and pinch Roger’s thigh.

“T- -thank you.” Roger squeaked.

“Jesus Christ.” Brian mutters.

Brian looks to us with wide disbelieving eyes.

“Can you two save it for the hotel? Or do you need to use the restroom?”

Maintaining my composure, I flash Brian a smile.

“We’re fine.” I assured him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment! Like I said, I like some nice constructive criticism. I'll be rewriting this chapter though, don't worry. Just not now, I'd like to get on with the story I guess. I've been stuck on this chapter for way too long. But let me know what you think!


	6. I've Got Issues, That Much Is True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the death of her twin sister is something that Jacqueline never thought she'd have to deal with in this lifetime, but life has never been fair. She starts turning to drugs as a method of coping with her anxiety as well as her sister's death. It begins to effect her friendship/relationship with her band mates. When will be the breaking point? When will it all end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, more angst and drama ahead because I'm a sucker for that shit. I've tried keeping the timeline as accurate as I can, but if I do make any mistakes, let me know and I'll correct it later. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so enjoy!

_December 15th, 1974…_

 

With our tour officially over just after the thirteenth, we finally left for London. I can barely keep my eyes open, and it shows as John, Roger, and I make it to our flat late into the night. I toss my luggage to the living room, nearly knocking over the many boxes sent here from the US. I practically hug Jolene’s urn like a teddy bear as I sluggishly make my way to my room and fall asleep with it on the nightstand beside me.

Within the morning, I can hear moans from down the hall, and shudder repulsively as I recognize that it’s John and Veronica _fucking_. I get out of bed with a yawn and glance up at the clock on my wall to read that it’s nine in the morning. After raking a hand through my knotty hair, I make my way to the kitchen to make coffee.

_God...when did Veronica even get here? John must have invited her over late last night then…_

“Can’t sleep through all that excitement?” 

I turn around slowly, and see Roger smiling faintly yet teasingly as he makes his way into the kitchen. He comes right over to me, pressing his hips flush into mine until I feel a prominent bulge poking into me.

“Really, Rog?” I chuckled softly.

“I mean, I  **never** thought I would ever hear this come from my own mouth, but Deaky and Veronica have made me  _very_ horny. After waking up to  **that** , I've got morning wood, baby girl.” Roger teased.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips and smile at Roger. I stare at the blonde fondly and bite at my bottom lip as I recall the late afternoon of the day we played at Rainbow Theater last month, right before the call from Allen. It was the first time that Roger and I engaged in something like that together. With the lack of sex I’d had lately, I was really hoping I'd be able to sate my curiosity about Roger. 

_Were there any facts to those rumors about Roger? Was he really_ **_that_ ** _good in bed?_

The mere thought of sex with Roger years ago would have repulsed me. Although after having been around him so much, after  _living with him_  for years, I guess my view on Roger changed. I couldn't help but recall the time Roger became so... _submissive,_ when I simply tugged on his long hair and practically bared my teeth at him from anger. He looked so  _desperate_  for more, and honestly, it felt  _amazing_ . It was something I never considered being interested in sexually. But it was the first time in a long time that I’d felt in control of  _something_ , especially with everything that had been happening as of late.

_Maybe I just liked how pretty Roger looked then and there. Maybe...I wanted to see it again._

So acting impulsively, I casually wrap my arms around Roger’s shoulders, before weaving a hand through his soft hair and gripping it firmly. The response is almost immediate, Roger looks to me with wide eyes as his breath stutters and hitches just a bit higher. I pull his head a bit closer to mine, and brush my mouth lightly over his.

_Well I’ve never really done this type of shit before...I didn’t even know either of us were so into this..._

“You...you gonna be a good boy for me, Rog?” I tentatively asked.

His hands dart out to grasp my hips while a whine escapes his throat. I can feel my entire being shudder with excitement just from his reaction alone. Roger gives me a small but frantic nod.

“N- -need you, baby girl.” Roger gasped.

I hungrily press my lips to his, silencing him just as he swiftly presses me against the kitchen counter. Hearing an awkward cough behind us, the two of us pull away to see John and Veronica in their bathrobes. They look to us with amused smiles.

“Don’t mind us, we just wanted some coffee.” John teased.

After a second or so, Roger seems to regain his composure as he responds to John easily like nothing happened.

“Oh don’t you give us that look, mate. We just heard you two going at it like a bunch of fuckin’ rabbits. This is all  _your_ fault.” Roger grinned deviously.

Reluctantly, Roger peels himself off of me, pressing a kiss to my cheek and adjusting his sweatpants before going to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. Ignoring the blush on my cheeks, I also retrieve my mug from the counter top and move to sit at the round kitchen table with Veronica. 

“Happy birthday, Jack.” She smiled at me.

My eyes widen in realization at the date, and I even glance at the calendar on the kitchen wall for a confirmation. Time had gone by quickly. The past month almost seemed like a  _blur_ with everything that had happened. I _was_ a right mess, wasn’t I?

_Shit...she’s right. It_ **_is_ ** _the fifteenth. How did time pass that quickly?_

“Ha. To be honest, I  _completely_ forgot. Just finally got back from tour and all that.” I chuckled. “Damn, I should call Jolene and- -”

I immediately stop myself, my smile fading almost instantly at the reminder of my twin. 

_Fuck…it’s been three weeks, how do I just_ **_forget_ ** _something like that? I feel...fucking terrible. Guilty. How can I forget that I live in a world without Jolene? For fucks sake...her ashes are sitting on my nightstand..._

I look into my mug of coffee almost angrily as everyone slowly moves to join us at the table. Roger, John, and Veronica look to me sadly at the mention of my sister, but no one says anything about my slip up. Deaky is quick to change the subject.

“Is there anything special you wanted to do today?” Deaky asked. “There’s an ice festival in the next town over I heard.”

I continue to stare at my reflection within the coffee.

_Just say something, Jack. Anything. You’re probably scaring your friends. They don’t need your baggage right now._

“Actually, I think I’ll just spend the day catching up on sleep.” I mutter nonchalantly. “Don’t really feel like doing anything. It’s just another day.”

I refuse to meet anyone’s eyes and get up from the round table with my mug of coffee in hand.

“Wait, baby.”

 _Where’s my fucking baby_ ** _girl?_ ** _I love your cheesy-ass nicknames._

Almost immediately, Roger reaches for my hand once he notices how dodgy I'm acting. I silently curse to myself, but try not to give anything away as I maintain a blank expression.

“Yeah, Rog?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Would you mind if I joined you? We can um...share some wacky backy.”

_I don’t think we’ve smoked together in a while...I’m surprised he even_ **_wants_ ** _to with me given how weird he is about my new habits._

“And you’re not gonna judge me for it this time? It must be my birthday.” I quipped.

Roger chuckled at my joke despite it being so snide. 

“Listen, I’m just going to use your own words against you. What was it? Oh right, “ _I’m not getting into this with you right now_ .” Both of us are far too tired for that, sweetheart. So, let’s just go back to your room, and have a  _relaxing_ morning...and maybe, after a little while, we can decide on what we wanna do.” He suggested with a grin. “But you’re  **not** going to be alone today of all days, it’s your birthday.”

Despite his playful tone, I can see the worry and concern in his eyes. 

_He knows I’m in a depressed mood already…_

I try to put on a nonchalant smile, although it doesn’t quite reach my eyes either.

“You don’t have to try and  _protect_ me Roger.” I chuckled. “I’m fine.”

Roger gives me an all too knowing look. Somehow, he just  _recognizes_ that what I’d just told him was a crock of shit. He was far too observant for his own good, but then again, after living together for roughly three or four years, I’m sure he just knew me like the back of his hand by now. 

“You’re my best mate and I want to be with you. I’m  _allowed_ to want to spend time with you. This isn’t out of  _whatever_ kind of pity you think this is. I know how much you’d hate that.” Roger assured me.

I relax against Roger while he reads me like an open book once again. A heavy sigh escapes my lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off aggressive. But I mean it, Rog. You don’t have to feel obligated to be with me because of…” I trailed off.

I avert my gaze from Veronica. I wasn’t sure if John had told her about our marriage. My attention is brought to Roger once again as his hand slides up my arm and onto my shoulder. I can feel my face grow more flush with his attentive yet soothing touches.

_Is it weird that I love it when he touches me? Not sexually but...you know...just...grounding me._

“I  _want_ to hang out with you. It’s your birthday and I want to celebrate it with you because you’re my best mate. What better way to start off the day than with a little weed, huh?” He winked at me.

_He can be so sweet sometimes..._

Most people didn’t know how considerate and thoughtful Roger Taylor was. He was a gentleman through and through. It was honestly incredibly sweet of him to even  _offer_ taking my mind off of things. But then I remembered how good of a friend, or rather, how good of a  _partner_ , that he is.

“Don’t you have a date to go on later? I thought you mentioned being busy with one of your fans.” I smiled faintly.

“Not too busy for you, baby girl.” Roger smirked. “I already cancelled my plans for today.”

“You two are so damn cute and  _sweet_ that it’s going to warrant a trip to my dentist soon.” Deaky spoke up.

_He said the same thing about Brian and I..._

“Haha, you’re too kind, Deaks.” Roger playfully rolled his eyes. "I could say the same about you and Ronnie."

"....touché." He responded.

“Before you whisk away the birthday girl, there’s something I needed to say to you both.” Veronica added.

Veronica makes her way over to me with a huge smile on her face. She looks thrilled, _ecstatic_ even, although I’m uncertain as to why. She grabs my hands and glances over at John expectantly. Immediately, I can tell that John  _knows_  what this is regarding. It has me both eager and nervous all at the same time.

“I...I’m expecting…” Veronica told me excitedly.

 _Expecting...expecting? Like a…a **baby**  type of expecting? Wait a goddamn minute...she’s fucking  _ **_pregnant?!_ ** _Deaky, you sly dog!_

“Expecting what?” Roger blurted out.

At Roger’s question, I burst out laughing just from how genuinely confused and _oblivious_ he was at times. I’m quick to hug Veronica and Deaky though, and offer them both a kiss to the cheek.

“Congrats to the both of you.” I smiled warmly. 

After pulling back, all of us look at Roger expectantly as we watch the gears slowly turn in his mind. Then, after having that moment of epiphany, he smiles brightly and claps a hand on our friend’s shoulder.

“Oh _wow!_ Congratulations are in order then!” Roger shouted excitedly. “Holy shit, Deaks! Cheers, mate!”

“Thank you.” John muttered. “I was so worried you two would flip out- -”

“Flip out over what? You’re having a baby!” Roger chuckled. “What? You think we wouldn’t want you in the band or something now that you’re a dad? That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“Queen doesn’t work without you, Deaky. That’s just a fact.” I smirked. "We have taken the title as the _dancing queens_ and I can't live without my other half."

Leaving John and Veronica with a goodbye, I travel to my room and grab a new joint before lighting it. Roger smiles at me fondly as he shuts my door, and moves to open my bedroom window. After taking one long hit, I exhale slowly in satisfaction, the stress slowly exiting my body. 

“Rog?” I hum softly.

“Yeah, baby girl?” Roger paused.

My mouth already becoming dry and hot from smoking, I deeply clear my throat before gesturing to my record player. Roger playfully rolls his eyes as he reaches over to play my Led Zeppelin vinyl. It’s my favorite album, one I was quite obsessive over, not that my friends didn’t  _already_ know how much I loved Led Zeppelin.

“What made you choose Zep? You hate how much I love them.” I joked.

“I mean, you’re my wife and it’s your birthday. Can’t I just be capable of doing something nice for my girl?” Roger smirked.

“ _Your girl?_  You’re such a sweet talker, Taylor.” I crack a smile. “What did you do?”

“Well, I was um...I was thinkin’ about what you said when you gave me that pocket watch. About  _having a piece of you with me_. So I might have gotten you a little something as well…”

My heart flutters as Roger sits on the bed, reaching into his pocket to dig out a ring. My eyes widen at the thickness of the jewelry, but it looks beautiful nonetheless. It’s definitely unique looking, a tad darker than a gold band, but a lovely shade nonetheless. It has a “Q” engraved on top of the ring.

_God damn, this looks custom made. It doesn’t look cheap, that’s for sure. Jeez, Rog- -_

“I got this  _specially_ made. The idea just came into my head not too long ago. A friend of mine owed me a favor anyway.” Roger shrugged casually. “It really wasn’t expensive, and it’s got meaning behind it.”

I slip it on my ring finger, and ignore the slight pang in my chest.

“It’s made from my cymbals. From my old drum set. It was gonna get tossed anyway, so I thought I’d make some use of it and my friend melted part of it down. It’s from back in our Smile days, and it was used in the pub that we first met at.” 

It was honestly one of the most considerate gifts I’d ever received. Clearly, Roger had put a lot of time, thought, and effort into this. The thought alone was purely heartwarming.

_He’s just...so amazing._

“Oh damn! Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Roger chuckled.

Wiping quickly at my eyes, I place my joint down on the ashtray just on my nightstand. I reach over for Roger before placing a loving kiss to his mouth.

“That’s **so** fucking sweet of you though.” I laughed. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well  _now_ we’re even.” Roger smiled warmly. “I got you a chain so you could wear it. Unless you’d rather just wear it on your finger- -”

I smother his entire face with kisses, all while enjoying the sound of his laughter. Eventually, we settle down and lay in my bed together, taking delight in the sound of the quiet music as we share a joint. It was so...serene and peaceful. For the first time in  _months_ . Despite the sadness I knew today would bring, Roger had somehow managed to cheer me up. None of it felt  _forced_ , and I was actually having a good morning so far.

“Thank you, Rog. For bein’ there.” I mumbled softly.

“Is it enough for  _Husband of the Year?_ ” Roger smirked.

_I think so, yes. Although I never used to think of you as husband material._

I fall silent and bite on my bottom lip as I look up to the ceiling, only glancing at Roger every few seconds. My hand slowly twitches at my side as I watch Roger smoke from the corner of my eye.

“Fuck…” He groaned lightly. “I’ve missed that. Why have I deprived myself of this? We used to have such fun times together...”

“You love to remind me how much you hate this shit.” I chuckled dryly.

Roger reaches over me, stubbing out the end of the joint on my ashtray before setting it down on the side. He blows out smoke and lets out a husky laugh as he glances over at me.

“Nah, the other stuff you’ve been doing. I hate  _that_ shit. Fuck your experimenting.” 

For some reason, guilt begins to eat away at me as I turn away.

“It helps me feel better.” I barely uttered.

Much to my surprise, Roger responds to my statement. I hadn’t realized he actually heard me.

“Maybe it does...but it’s temporary and I don’t think it’s worth the price. Listen to me, baby girl. I know we’ve been avoiding this conversation, and we can talk about it  _later_. I might have forgotten to mention that Brian and Fred are popping by fairly soon, and we’ll be going out to eat anyway. So just enjoy the ride, yeah? Don’t stress yourself out. We’ll talk about it later if you’d still like to.”

_This man confuses me sometimes..._

I let out a small sigh, but nod in agreement nonetheless. There was definitely a better time and place for this...discussion. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on the  _delightful_ sensation of my head spinning lightly from the high. For now, I’d drop the subject until my mind was clear.

“Thank you for the gift, Rog. I really do love it.” I smile faintly. 

I play with the ring in my hand, running my fingers over the smooth metallic surface. After a minute or so, I open my eyes to see Roger’s stare flicker between my lips and mouth. He turns to lay on his side, propping his left arm underneath his head like a cushion as he faces me.

“Not a problem, baby. I’ll spoil you anytime you’d like.” Roger smirked.

I almost jolt from the sudden touch of Roger’s hand along my thigh, but find myself shuddering instead. He starts to rub small circles with just his thumb, and I can’t help how my breath hitches from the feathery light strokes to my skin. Gauging my reaction, Roger continues slowly, his hand trailing from my thigh up until he grazes the side of my breast.

“Trying to put the moves on me already, Mr. Taylor?” I managed to get out.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Taylor. Can’t really help it.” Roger coyly smiled. 

I move to lay on my side as well to get more comfortable, and inch even closer to Roger. Impulsively, my hand moves until it’s resting on along his cheek. Roger’s pretty blue eyes flutter shut before he nuzzles into my hand.  

_Why was he so adorable?_

“So being the crazy american that I am…” I started.

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, baby girl?” Roger slurred.

_Fuck, he looks so gorgeous..._

At first, I find myself hesitating. Part of me wondered if Roger would even be interested in being... _exclusive_ . It was laughable really, we were already  _married_. Although...it wasn’t a marriage founded off of love, it was more out of necessity to stay in England and continue being apart of the band.

_That’s what this started as...but things have clearly changed between us._

“I know we’ve been....sleeping around with other people and keeping things casual, but...I- -I honestly can’t help wonderin’ if there’s something... _more_ . B- -between us. And...I was kinda thinkin’ that maybe...we could try to be... _exclusive_. Just, being in a  **real** relationship. I know I love you, but...it’s more than just being best f- -friends, I think. I was kinda hopin’ maybe...that I’m  **not** the only one.” I stammered. “I just haven’t really been in a serious relationship in a long time, other than Brian, but clearly you know how that all ended. It was fun at first, I genuinely think at one point we _were_ happy, but something changed between us. In the end, Brian cheated on me, and I just _let_ it all happen, and despite the fact that we just stayed friends...it’s why I’ve been so apprehensive to start anything else, you know? I don’t want anything bad to happen to  _us_. I’d rather die than lose you.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I wait hopelessly. For a moment, I felt similarly to a teenager after admitting to having a crush on someone. I never thought I could feel this way about  _anyone_ almost ten years later. 

_But here we are…_

Maybe Roger and I just had good chemistry. Maybe he was just being a good friend, or maybe- -

“R- -Roger?” 

I lean closer as a soft murmur slips from his mouth. I can already feel my heart ache when I pick up on his light breathing, how his eyes remain closed, and how unresponsive he was. 

_Fuck...he’s asleep. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me right now._

I let my hand fall from his face and bite back the disappointment. I help adjust him on my bed so that he’s lying on his back before throwing my comforter on top of us. Snuggling into his side, I place my head to his chest and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

_Maybe it was for the best..._

* * *

“It is  _way_ too early for you to be yelling at me, guys.” Roger whined.

“Roger...you both slept in _well_ past noon.” Brian pointed out. “Besides, both of you should have been ready by now. Did you not tell her we were coming by?”

“More like forgot to I’m sure. They were both a little preoccupied earlier.” John smirked.

“Oi! You’re supposed to be on  _my_  side, Deaks!” Roger playfully glared at him. “And  **yes** , I told her! I- -I  _think_ I did anyway...”

“You  **think** you did, but you don’t even know for certain?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“Roger Meddows Taylor! You need to keep your cock away from my Brooklyn Jaybird for  _one_ moment or  _so help me God!_ ” Freddie fumed angrily. 

“Blimey, Fred! We haven’t even  _shagged_ yet! We just shared a joint this morning and fell asleep in her bed! So leave my cock out of this!” Roger blushed madly. 

Freddie narrows his eyes at his friend suspiciously, but doesn’t say anything once realizing that the blonde is being truthful.

“Now I find  **that** extremely difficult to believe.” Brian teased. “You’re practically sex on two legs. John, can you attest to this? There was no funny business this morning?”

John rolls his eyes at Brian, but nodded in confirmation, looking far more  _amused_ than anything else.

“I mean, they went to her room to smoke a joint. What they did behind closed doors is anyone’s guess.” John joked.

“Oh, like you have  _any_ room to talk, Deaky. Veronica’s sweet and everything, but  _you two_ were all we could bloody hear before we even got out of bed this morning!” Roger huffed. “Talk about  _Misfiring!_ ”

“....I apologize for nothing. We just got back from tour and I missed my fiancé.” John chuckled.

Walking out into the living room, I give the boys a blank stare.

“Why are you jackasses talking about Deaky’s sex life?” I yawned.

Freddie smiles brightly before running over and throwing his arms around me.

“Happy birthday, my Brooklyn Jaybird!” Freddie greeted.

I can’t help the giggle that escapes as Freddie places two kisses to both of my cheeks.

_If I wasn’t awake before, I certainly am now._

“You’re growing up so fast, my sweet darling! You used to be that adorably shy and awkward nerd, and look at you now! Fabulous and  _ferocious_ as all fucking hell! You and Brian are both like my own personal Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix!” Freddie spoke playfully.

I can’t fight back the grin on my face at the comparison.

“Oh I  _wish_ I could be Jimmy Page, man.” I chuckled.

“Contain yourself, my dear.” Freddie smirked. “Now, how about we go to that cute little diner down the block? The one you really like. After that, I vote we go to this new club later tonight. For some celebratory drinks of course. If you feel like dancing, that’s entirely up to you.” 

_That actually sounds really fun. But we don’t really have the money for that, do we?_

“Doesn’t Brian have a curfew now with Chrissie in charge?” I teased.

Roger and I quickly exchange a high-five at the playful jab on Brian.

“Oh shush. I can manage until 10.” Brian whimsically responds.

“Till  _10_.” Roger and Deaky snickered.

“I reckon that’s late enough!” Brian blushed. “I’m _so_ sorry for having a caring fiancé.”

“They’re just teasing you, darling.” Freddie rolled his eyes. “Now, Jack, go get dressed. We’re going to your favorite record store first. I saw a Led Zeppelin record with your name on it.”

I can't help but shake my head at our flamboyant front-man. 

“Freddie,  _stop_. We don’t have the money for most of that, anyway.” I objected. 

“Never mind money, dear. Now get dressed.” Fred flippantly replied.

“If you’re talking about my secret stash, there’s _nothing_ there. Believe me, I learned my lesson from the last time you guys nearly tore off my head.” I nearly snapped.

Brian looks almost _guilty_ from the said memory in question. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself. Everyone’s smiles fade almost instantly, and I feel terrible that  _I’m_ the cause. The atmosphere was no longer light and relaxed. Unlike my time earlier with Roger, I was under the impression that the boys were trying to take my mind off of Jolene. It felt  _forced,_ and the last thing I wanted was to keep my friends from spending time with their loved ones.

_I always ruin everything..._

“I’m  _so_ sorry at how harsh that sounded, but just...forget about  _all of this_. It’s just another day- -”

“You’re one of our best friends and it’s your  _birthday_ , luv. We just wanna celebrate it with you.” Brian pointed out.

“Except that there’s  _nothing_  to celebrate! I love you guys, don’t get me wrong, but all of this is...it’s  **not** necessary. You don’t need to feel  _obligated_ to be here, to  _distract_ me. I’m sure you all have things you need to do with your...fiancés.” I sniffled lightly. “Especially _you two_. Bri, John, shouldn’t you be with Chrissie and Veronica? And I know how much you love Mary, Fred...”  

Freddie steps forward and places a gentle hand on my cheek. Instinctively, I can’t help but lean into his touch.

“ _Distract_ you? Where did you get such a silly notion, darling?” Fred muttered softly.

_Shit...all I do is fuck up. I’m an idiot. A complete dumb ass. They’re all probably pissed at me._

“Fuck, I didn’t- -” I stammered. “Fred. I’m s- -sorry. I’m just…”

 _I miss her so much...it hurts._ ** _Why_** _does it hurt_ _so_   _much_ _?_

While my vision blurs with more tears, I can feel my throat becoming tight as I struggle to hold back a sob. I felt pathetic and small, even _embarrassed_  for getting so emotional. Maybe it was because I’d hated letting my guard down, of being vulnerable in front of others. For years, I’d built up this persona of being this understanding and easy-going individual when underneath it all, I was just that scared and timid girl looking for a home, a place to  _belong_. All of those harsh words from my father, years of emotional and physical abuse just ingrained in the back of my mind, reassuring me how worthless I was to the world. 

_There is one solution...to just...end it all and be with Jolene. But could I go through with that knowing who I’d be leaving behind?_

“Okay, fine. I’m  _not_ doing great. It’s been what? T- -three weeks now? A- -and...and...I miss my sister so much that it  _physically_ hurts. Today is just a painful fucking r- -reminder that I’m living and that Jo is...that s- -she’s  ** _dead_**. Is that what y- -you wanna hear?” I hiccuped.

The hand on my cheek falls, before Fred pulls me in for an embrace. 

“You don’t have to put on a brave front for us, sweetheart.” 

My arms slowly move until I’m hugging Freddie tightly as well, my eyes falling shut as I exhale my breath shakily.

“S- -sorry.” I barely uttered. “I’m such a jerk.”

“No you’re  **not** , dear. I can’t even imagine how you’ve been faring with all of it. It’s  _alright_ to feel a little upset today,  _no one_ would blame you.” Freddie told me. 

“F- -Freddie…” My voice cracked. 

“ _It’s alright, my darling_.” He murmured softly. 

For a little over a minute, Freddie holds me and pets my hair soothingly as if I’m one of his treasured cats. My eyes flutter shut as more tears escape. I can smell the light scent Fred’s cologne, and find myself relaxing in his arms. Freddie had  _always_ been able to somehow calm me down. After I pull away, I give my friend a kiss to the cheek as I furiously wipe at my eyes.

“Listen, I’ll go get changed and try to fix the rat’s nest I call hair. W- -we can go out in a few minutes... if you’d still like to.” I offered.

“Well it’s your birthday and we’re going to celebrate it, damn it. We want to spend today with you.” Fred smiled warmly. “Come along, lovie. I’ve been dying to raid your closet. What kind of goodies do you have?”

“Nothing much...I’ve had to sell a lot of my old clothes.” I timidly replied.

Soon enough, I’m being led into my own bedroom by Freddie and watch him fondly as he rummages through my closet and grabs an outfit for me to put on, almost exactly like old times. Then, Freddie insists on applying my makeup to practice, and after that, I quickly straighten my hair. It’s about half an hour before we leave, and by then, the boys are already drinking whatever beer is left in the refrigerator. The rest of the afternoon goes off without a hitch. 

Much to my surprise, we  _don’t_ talk about the band, or even about working on the next album. Instead, we talk about what’s happening in our lives, our relationships and our families, and so forth. That’s when John comes forward to Freddie and Brian about Veronica’s pregnancy. Then, Brian talks about his wedding date, now set for later this month before the end of the year. My heart pangs anxiously upon hearing the details of Brian’s wedding, although I don’t know why.

“What are we still doing cramped up in this damn booth? Let’s go dance.” Fred pouted.

“I fucking hear ya, Fred.” I smirked.

My vision blurs as I stand up and hop out of the booth. Freddie grins deviously at me as he wraps an arm around my waist.

“I’ll be stealing your girl for a bit, Rog.” Fred teased.

Roger’s eyes flicker with a bit of amusement as he leans back to down another shot.

“I think not _._ ” Roger smirked.

Sliding out of the booth, Roger snakes his arm around my waist as well, gently trying to pull me away from Fred. It’s like a small game of tug of war.

“And I thought our fans were persistent.” John quipped.

“No way, Blondie! She was  ** _my_ **Brooklyn Jaybird long before I bloody introduced you two! I’ll be dancing with her first.” Freddie laughed.

Brian abruptly stands up, practically towering over us as he removes their hands from me and lifts me from the ground before quickly running over to the dance floor. Roger and Freddie watch with disbelief as Brian sets me down and tries to dance. I hadn’t laughed so hard in months, but I happily dance with Brian to the cheesy disco music playing from the loudspeakers.

_It’s the first time things have felt so relaxed between all of us in months._

* * *

 

_December 27th of 1974…_

 

Chrissie looks to us with wide eyes.

“H- -how do I look? Do I look good?” She stammered.

I can hear Veronica and Mary try to reassure Chrissie, but I find myself momentarily distracted as I look out the window. The horrid weather had become even _colder_ as more snow started to fall. I almost preferred the heavy rains from the previous summer than this. I’m already shivering in my bridesmaids dress and we were  _indoors_.

For some reason, Chrissie decided that the bridesmaids should all wear a light pink with some small ruffles down towards the bottom. Coincidentally, pink was my least favorite color. I can recall how my mother, prior to her death, loved to dress up Jolene and I in pink  _frilly_ dresses. 

_God...I can’t even remember what mom looks like...do I even have a picture of her? I’ll have to rummage through some of Jolene’s things and check._

“Jacqueline, are you even listening?”

I’m snapped out of my daze as Chrissie looks to me expectantly.

“I’m sorry, this weather just has me want to snuggle up next to a warm fire and sleep.” I chuckled softly.

Chrissie’s expression softens as she gives me a small smile.

“I hear that.” She nodded understandingly. 

Before anyone can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Chrissie’s mother comes shuffling into the room, and begins fretting over her daughters hair. After inspecting myself in the mirror, I take this moment to step outside for a breather. I shiver against the cold winter air, but the need for a smoke is stronger, so I pull out my joint and light it up regardless.

“Well don’t you clean up nicely, darling?”

I nearly jump until I see Fred coming outside. Immediately he huddles next to me for warmth.

“Mind if I have some of that? All of this wedding jitters shit is starting to get to me and it’s not even  _my_ wedding.” Freddie joked.

I take a hit and pass the joint to Freddie.

“Finally someone that gets it. Is Brian freaking out as much as Chrissie is?” I asked.

“A little bit.” Freddie chuckled. “Roger’s trying to give him a bloody  _pep talk_ as we speak.”

“Ha. I can already imagine.” I giggled lightly. 

Taking in my appearance, Freddie smiles warmly at me.

“It’s only a matter of time before you’re snatched away too. You look gorgeous in that dress, lovie.”

_Well it’s a little late for that since I’m legally married to Roger._

“Thanks Fred.” I scoffed lightly. “I fucking hate pink though.”

Freddie covers a giggle with his hand and hides his mouth.

“Why? You look so  _adorable_ , like a little porcelain doll complete with those luscious curls of yours- -” 

“My mom...she used to _always_ dress me up. She loved putting Jolene and I in these matching dresses when we were little.” I confessed. “Almost all of them were  _pink_.”

At the mention of Jolene, I can see Freddie’s smile falter.

“Did you finish going through her belongings yet? Last time we were at the flat, there were still boxes everywhere.” Fred muttered.

“I’ve still got a good chunk to go through, but I’m halfway done. At least we can sit in the living room now.” I tried smiling. “I moved the rest to my room to go through them later.”

The both of us fall into silence after that, watching the snowfall as we pass my joint back and forth, it's almost peaceful. Several minutes later, I put the joint out and tuck it back into my purse before grabbing a small perfume bottle inside and give myself a little spritz.

“I know it’s a little forward of me to ask this- -” Freddie spoke up.

“Since when are you afraid of being forward?” I teased.

“Oh hush you, I was just wondering...if you and Roger are really  _together._ ”

“It’s a good question, one I’d also like an answer to.” I replied whimsically.

Freddie tries once again to stifle his laughter, but fails as I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m trying to be serious here!” Freddie’s laughter subsides. “I’m just saying, if Roger’s been fucking around with you, I’ll kick his arse so hard- -”

“Fred. It’s really sweet of you to offer, but Roger isn’t...we haven’t even...we’ve only  _kissed_ a couple of times among other things.”

_And I married him. There’s also that._

“So he wasn’t lying then?  _Interesting_...”

“Lying about what? Why do you suddenly care who I date or sleep with?” I raised an eyebrow.

“It’s because you’re precious to me that I’m concerned, but I want you to be careful around Blondie. I know you two fancy each other, and I  **never** thought I’d hear myself say this, but...maybe you two...  _shouldn’t_ get involved with one another, at least  _romantically_. The last thing I want is for either of you to end up resenting- -”

_That’s enough, I think._

“Freddie.  **I’m** the one that told him that I wouldn’t hold him back, that we’re _not_ exclusive. Roger might be something of a ladies man, but he’s not a  _complete_ pig. He’d never- -”

“Never what? Hurt you? Probably not  _intentionally_ no. Listen to me dear, the last closest friend you decided to date and threw caution to the wind with, somehow ended up  _cheating_ on you and is currently about to  **marry** that very same person. You might be good at hiding certain things, but you wear your heart on your goddamn sleeve, darling. I can tell you’re not over Brian. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t want you to jump into anything with Roger so quickly. I love Roger dearly like a brother, but I’ve seen the way he is with women and how he can treat them. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt because he thinks with his cock. Plus, we’re all in a band and we have to  _work together_.” Freddie told me.

“Okay... _wow_. That’s a lot to unpack there, dude.” I smiled tensely.

“I’m sorry, but I felt like I needed to say _something_ before things with you two went any further. If you want to shag him, that’s  _fine_ . I mean, anyone with two eyes can see how attractive Roger is. You two are mature enough to know what you want, but just make sure to leave your  _feelings_ out of it so no one ends up hurt.”

_A little late for that, I think._

“Freddie- -”

“I  _will_ say this though...Roger is considerate about you, doesn’t treat you like the other girls he’s been with. He might be a complete playboy, but I think he truly does care about you, dear.”

_Sometimes I think he’s interested in more, but other times I’m not so sure..._

“I never thought you were so invested in my love life.” I chuckled.

“Are you kidding? I currently have a wager with Deaky over when you two will  _finally_ sleep together.” Freddie smirked.

I can feel my face heat up, but I was uncertain if it was from the weed, or from how Freddie was talking about my sex life.

“You’re joking, right?” I raised an eyebrow.

“...maybe. But if you could hold off on your urges until March, I’d appreciate it.” Freddie mumbles awkwardly.

“ _Freddie Mercury!_ ” I gasped.

As Fred smiles sheepishly, we’re both interrupted when the doors to the church slam open. Roger comes out looking frustrated as all hell, and runs a hand through his hair.

“There you are! We’ve been looking bloody  **everywhere** for you two!” Roger exclaimed.

“Shit, what time is it?” I ask worriedly.

“We’ve got about six minutes before the ceremony starts. Come on then, get inside.  _Both_ of you. It’s fuckin’  _freezing_ out here.” Roger told us.

Roger puts his hands along my arms and nearly hisses when he realizes how cold I am. He quickly moves to embrace me as if he’s trying to share his body heat.

“What is it with you always forgetting to wear a bloody _coat?_ ” Roger grumbled. “You’re so damn cold.”

“Well hello to you too.” I rolled my eyes. “Can we get going before the ceremony starts?”

Roger runs his warm hands over my back before pulling away. His eyes widen a small fraction as he takes in my appearance.

“W- -what? I don’t look like shit, do I?” I stammered.

“No!  _No_. You look really beautiful.” Roger smiles warmly.

As my heart flutters, Roger moves closer, his lips just hovering over mine. Before he can do anything else, Freddie is already tugging on the back of his suit and pulling him away.

“Come on, Blondie. Time to get going.”

“B- -but Fred! You can’t just- -! I was having a  _moment_ here!” Roger spluttered.

I fail to hide my smile as I wave goodbye to Roger and Fred, and make my way back to the other girls just in time. The wedding itself was beautiful, and so _big_ , unlike my own. As the ceremony finally starts, the groomsmen and bridesmaids file in. Unsurprisingly, I end up walking down the aisle with Roger after Fred goes with Mary, and while John and Veronica walk together. 

Before I take my place with Mary and Veronica, Brian and I make brief eye contact. Brian’s eyes widen just a slight fraction at my appearance, and it’s as if he wants to say something to **_me_ ** , but refrains from doing so. Time slows down as Roger and I separate and walk to our designated spots, and before I know it, I’m having flashbacks to the moment I was properly introduced to Brian on my birthday in ‘69 up until the moment we broke up. I couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong in our relationship, when things started to fall apart between us, if it was because of me.

I quickly try to refocus on the wedding as the ceremony continues and look away from Brian the moment everyone’s attention is on Chrissie Mullen, soon to be Chrissie  _May_. Despite how things ended between Brian and I, I couldn’t find it within me to hate Chrissie. Chrissie had ended up surprising me and became a good friend of mine. I was happy that Brian and Chrissie found each other.

_...right?_

* * *

 

_Early January of 1975…._

 

Jim Beach had been negotiating with Trident, trying to get Queen out of their Trident agreements. It was a tedious and still an ongoing process, but one that was necessary if our band could advance in the music industry. The bottom line of it all was that we hadn’t made a single  _dime_ from our previous albums, especially with Sheer Heart Attack being our most recent release. Trident was insistent that  _we_ owed  _them_ a lot and gave Mr. Beach, or as Freddie dubbed our new lawyer,  _Miami_ , the final numbers of how much money we owed.

Despite all of this commotion, all of us knew our potential and worth after working our asses off and completing the Sheer Heart Attack album. It was something Fred and I had discussed openly with some friends of his. He would mention to his friends, that we could vocally outdo  _any_ band. Fred loved talking about how we could go all out and not restrict ourselves with any barriers. And Kenny Everett, a very expressive and almost comically outrageous DJ, seemed to be fully supportive of us and said he’d help if it was, in any shape or form, possible. Freddie told him he’d be calling in that favor in the future, should we need it of course.

Even though we don’t officially tour again in America until February, we were still working hard. We were ready to finally escape Trident’s clutches and achieve greatness, and Fred would always remind us how  _close_ we were regarding stardom. So with all of that in our minds, we knew that we couldn’t give up yet. The one thing I cared about, and the last thing that I wanted to do was let down the fans we’d gained. However, our fan base seemed to be steadily growing by each week, so eventually, I actually started to relax. As long as we had our fans to support us, we  _might_ be able to make it through these hard times. 

But then there were days where everything in my life became so  _overwhelming_. There were those dark thoughts, repeating endlessly how worthless our efforts were. So on most days, it was also difficult trying to keep my own head above water, so to speak. The loss of my twin sister had hit me  _hard_ , and it showed in various ways. 

I started sleeping in real late most days, well past noon, finding it extremely difficult to bring myself to get out of bed. Not out of laziness, but because I lacked the _motivation_ to, and it even started affecting my eating habits. My own actions reminded me almost exactly of how my own father acted after my mother's death. Emotionally, I’d also been closing myself off from the boys as well as other people, and I could see how  _forced_ my actions were nowadays. Despite what the boys had said about reaching out to them, I put on a contented or happy face. One that never quite reached my eyes, but seemed to fool everyone else enough. 

The last thing I wanted was to put my problems onto Freddie, Brian, Roger, and John when they had already done so much for me. Thinking deeply about the subject, I was convinced that I’d been nothing but a problem since our early Queen days. Maybe it was even _before_ that. The fits of panic had also molded into something else. 

While I still had flashbacks of the abuse my father inflicted on me through childhood into my teen years, I began having periods of dysphoria, amongst other things. Hearing that incessant skepticism in my mind, and hearing that cruel voice tell me how I was a walking disaster everywhere I went. It would always assure me how I was always failing, how I would end up alone, how I wasn’t worth the effort, how I failed my baby sister, how I shouldn’t even _try_ anymore, how I should just give up, and how I should just make things easier for everyone by just…

_Those moments kept happening more frequently than I cared to admit._

In those times, I would go to Paul seeking any kind of help or comfort he’d provide.  _Somehow_ , the voice would stop or be muffled, even for just a short couple of hours, whenever I’d take whatever drugs the Irishman offered, but it was mostly cocaine. For some reason though, Paul would  _never_ ask for money whenever I offered, despite that I had little to nothing. Paul had always assured me that he just wanted to offer any help he could, that he wanted to be my  _friend_ , and...I believed him. It wasn’t just about the drugs anymore, I genuinely enjoyed Paul’s company. Paul could make me momentarily forget about my troubles, and knew just what to say to make me feel...validated.

It wasn’t new information that Brian, John, and Roger shared a strong dislike for Paul. Maybe it was how withdrawn and sometimes standoffish Paul came across as at times. Or maybe it was because I’d been spending too much time with Paul outside of work that it was deemed unprofessional. Either way, the boys never really made it clear to me  **why** they practically  _loathed_ Paul. And if they weren’t going to give me a valid reason, I didn’t see any reason  _not_ to spend time with him.

_They say he’s a bad influence, but Paul’s never given me reason to not trust him._

Today, I’d woken up from a nightmare regarding a future about Queen...one without me in it. At first, I actually get out my songbook and write down my feelings so I can use it for a potential song. I give up within five minutes, feeling shaken about the nightmare itself. After getting my mug of coffee, I glance at the clock along the wall to see that it’s already a half an hour past noon. 

Flashes of my nightmare are still very forefront in my mind and vivid in detail. It looked as if it had been about ten years or so into the future in this bizarre and striking dream. I saw John with his hair cut and permed, dancing along the stage in nothing but an over-sized shirt and shorts, without a care in the world as his fingers strum along his bass guitar. I saw Brian, who looked relatively the same, which was humorous in itself. He was still that gentle giant that played righteous riffs with his guitar, but had some wrinkles that indicated how he aged. 

In the dream, I saw Freddie still strutting along the stage as if he owned it. His appearance was so outrageous, but also just _him._  His lovely long hair was gone, a lot shorter and almost buzzed. He donned a ridiculous mustache, but somehow,  _Freddie could pull it off._ There was definitely something  _different_ about him in my dream, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Then, there was Roger. His glorious blonde hair was tragically shorter yet still full of volume, but styled in a way that suited him. While his vibrant blue eyes were the first thing I noticed, it was his mannerisms that stood out the most to me. Roger had aged well, and not just physically, but I could tell just by _looking_ at him that he definitely matured emotionally and mentally. Seeing him look so passionate even in my dreams was heartwarming to watch.

That was when the nightmare  _really_ took form. I could see the music slowly come to a stop as Brian quickly wiped at his eyes. Deaky looks just as dejected as he stands at the edge of the stage grabbing a cocktail from someone before downing it a little too quickly. Roger’s bangs fall over his eyes as his shoulders shake from his place behind the drums, as if he’s silently crying. Freddie even has to turn away from the largest audience I’d ever seen, just to clear his throat, as he struggles to maintain his normally confident composure. His eyes are shimmering with unshed tears.

It’s when Fred spoke up in my dream, that I realized how dark the atmosphere became. I see a giant screen, almost like a  _television_ , light up with a picture of me. I definitely looked good for my age in the image, but from how Fred talks  _about me_  to the audience, I’ve come to the realization that I’m  **dead** in this futuristic nightmare, that this concert was dedicated in my memory. Then, I woke up in bed shaking like a leaf as tears spring into my eyes.

I barely manage to put effort into my appearance today, but opted to go for a more natural look and didn’t wear so much makeup. When I called Paul, he sounded more than happy for me to come over and spend some time with him, so it actually uplifted my spirits a little. Although, for some reason, Brian had decided to drop by and visit today. I knew getting past Roger and Brian would be a tad difficult, my friends were a bit possessive, or  _protective_. Some days, it was hard to tell the difference. 

Grabbing my bag, I venture out into the living room area and see Brian and Roger conversing on the couch. Brian has my acoustic guitar in his arms as he plays a couple of notes for Roger. They look like they’re discussing a song, or rather, heatedly arguing over one.

“Just go a bit faster, yeah? What’s the big deal?” Roger scoffed.

“I mean, it’s  _my_ bloody song, I don’t want it to be fast-paced or- -” Brian objected.

Upon hearing me, both of them stop arguing. Their annoyed expressions morphing into one of curiosity and confusion.

“Hey luv, were we being too loud for you?” Brian smiled.

“No, you’re fine. I’m just on my way out, so you can bicker to your heart’s content.” I joked.

I can feel myself twitch uncomfortably where I stand. I glance at the door almost desperately, just within my reach. I quickly look away and give Brian and Roger a friendly smile.

“Where are you going, baby girl?” Roger raised an eyebrow.

Part of me wanted to lie, to say that I was going to John or Freddie’s. I knew it was a waste of time though, because somehow, I knew Brian would probably call them later on today like the mother hen that he proved to be every single time I even decided to leave the flat.

_Who are your real friends, Jack? Let’s be honest here. Friends don’t try to control each other._

“Jack?”

I’m snapped out of my daze, my thoughts momentarily ceasing as I glance to Roger and Brian. Both of them look confused, but now, also concerned. I quickly cover it up with a small laugh, and get my notebook from my bag.

“S- -sorry. Just got a little lost in my thoughts there.” I smiled. “I’m just going to Paul’s for a little bit. I wanted to show him a song I’d been working on, get an opinion on it.”

At the mere mention of his  _name_ , Roger’s smile falters. Immediately, I knew I’d made a mistake, but it was too late now to take it back. 

“You were just at Paul’s yesterday, weren’t you?” Roger chuckled.

“I know, but I was just- -”

“Is Freddie gonna be there?” Brian asked. 

_I mean, I did promise Fred I’d go to him first. Maybe he’ll already be at Paul’s..._

“Not that I know of.” I answered truthfully.

“I think he’s with Mary today at her parent’s place.” Roger hummed thoughtfully.

“Of course.” Brian muttered.

I slowly inched my way towards the front door as Roger and Brian somehow get into another debate, this time over Freddie. 

“Jack, before you go, I was gonna ask you to look at this song I’ve been working on.” Brian called for me.

“But I’m leaving. Can’t I just see it later?” I raised an eyebrow.

Brian looks completely dejected as I say this, and I can’t help the sigh that escapes my mouth.

“What is it now?” I blurt out.

“Is everything okay? You look really...pale and...thin…” Brian mutters softly. “Have you been forgetting to eat again, luv?”

“I’m- -”

“ _Fine_. We know.” Roger finishes for me. 

I glare at Roger from his snappish tone, and bite my tongue to avoid an argument. After taking a deep breath, I look back to Brian and attempt to give him a reassuring smile, although I’m not sure if he’s fully convinced.

“I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather lately, but that’s it. There’s nothing else to it.” I told Brian. “I just need to get outta of the flat for a little while.”

I start going towards the door again after putting my notebook away in my bag. 

“Be careful please!” Brian called out. “Make good choices!”

“Okay mom!” I playfully replied.

* * *

 When I make it to Paul’s apartment, I find Freddie lounging on the couch with Paul, and even see some new unfamiliar faces. 

_Spending the day with Mary, huh? Is that what Roger thought? I wonder what Fred’s doing here today._

I glance down to see cocaine amongst other drugs sprawled onto the coffee table as I make my way further inside. Freddie jumps up excitedly when he recognizes me, a bright smile on his face as he makes his way over and hugs me tightly. I’m always a giggling mess when he peppers kisses to my cheeks affectionately. Finally having enough, I put my hands on his shoulders and gently maneuver him away from me.

“Oh, my sweet darling! I had no idea you were dropping by today! You want any snow? Paul just got some.” Freddie grinned.

“I literally just walked in, Fred.” I laughed. “Give me a minute, yeah?”

Paul gets up as he comes to greet me, before wrapping an arm around Fred’s shoulder and mine. 

“Good to see you, darlin’. Come sit with us.” Paul winked at me. “You can ignore all of them, they’re just lazing about.”

As I sit down on the couch, I barely hold back a yawn as I set my bag down at my feet.

“Didn’t get any sleep then, dear?” Fred mumbled softly. 

“I don’t really sleep anymore these days.” I shrugged. “If I do, it’s for an hour or two at a time.”

Upon hearing this, Fred’s smile fades. Before he can voice his thoughts though, Paul interjects.

“I can tell.” Paul commented. “Why didn’t you say anything, sweetheart?”

“I wasn’t aware you could help me with my sleeping habits.” I mutter dryly.

Paul shakes his head as he lets out a chuckle. He places a hand on my knee and looks at me with concern.

“Darlin’...I know things are tough right now, so I don’t want you to _ever_ put on a happy face for us. You don’t have to  _hide_ here.”

My eyes water as I look to Paul with apprehension and restlessness. No matter how hard I tried, I only felt exhausted these past couple of weeks, these past couple of  _months_ actually. My sister’s death had only made everything worse, and it was all because I missed her so much. I wasn’t sure if  _anyone_  could help me with that, not even Paul.

“I’ve got some pills you can take with you to help with sleep. You need your beauty rest.” Paul smiled.

“No offense, but I don’t think there’s anything that can fix what’s wrong with me.” I chuckled bitterly.

Instead of hearing his normal reassurance in response, Paul just shakes his head in disagreement. Freddie sits tall and is quick to scoot as close to me as he can, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into him.

“There’s  _nothing_ wrong with you,  **nothing** to fix. You’re just going through a lot is all. These past couple of years have been hard, and I understand why.” Freddie cut in. “How has your anxiety been, darling? Better, or worse? I’m sure we can find something to help relax you.”

“I just hate feeling like _this_. I’m fucking sick of it.” I barely uttered. “Being haunted by that monster, and now...now I can’t stop thinking about how I failed Jo…”

After pressing a kiss to my head, Freddie rubs my arm soothingly. 

“Paul, can you go fetch me the syringe, darling?”

“Sure thing, Fred.”

Paul smiles sadly at us and gets up from the couch before walking off.

“Listen to me, Jack. Your so-called _father_ is out of the picture, you don’t have to be afraid of him anymore because you’re with  _us_ and  **far away**  from him. And Jolene...I’d like to think that she’s in a better place. What happened to her was very unfortunate and... _plain fucking horrible_ , but- -”

I can feel my vision become obscure from my own tears, and glare in Fred’s direction. 

“If this is the part where you tell me I should fucking move on...I might literally punch you in the face, dude.” I growled.

Fred pinches my arm and gives me a stern look.

“Jacqueline Louise Walker, your sister would want you to move on with your life. Everything she did to get you here was for  ** _you_ **.”

_You know...maybe he’s right. Maybe Jolene- -no...it’s just too soon. The wound is too fresh. I- -I can’t do this...why did I ever leave her?_

“I’ve only talked to the dear less than five times over the phone and I knew how much she  **loved**  you, that she only wanted what was best for you. Hell, if Jolene hadn’t enrolled you in Ealing and bought you that plane ticket...who knows where you’d be.  _I wouldn’t have_ ** _met_** _you._  I don’t know if Queen would be around or be where it is today…”

I can feel Fred grasp my chin lightly as he turns my head to face him. Fred’s eyes also begin to glisten with unshed tears, and he gives me a small yet supportive smile as he presses another kiss to my forehead.

“I know it’s easier said than done, but we have to try to live our lives to the absolute fullest, for the ones we’ve lost along the way. Live in the moment and look to the future. And when things become a bit unbearable, just find a good outlet for the pain. Write a song, do some drugs, go out and dance to get out that pent-up energy, go find someone and have freaky sex with them, go take up a hobby and meet new people, do  _whatever_ makes  **you** happy and  **don’t**  apologize for it.  _Fuck what everyone else thinks._ ” Freddie spoke seriously. 

_Wow. Holy shit. That’s…._

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand before hugging Fred tightly.

“And I don’t know where the fuck I’d be if I hadn’t met you either, Fred.” I laugh tearfully.

“Probably miserable I’m sure.” Freddie smirked. “I mean, we bring out the best and worst in each other. You can’t deny that. You’re one of my creative muses. I need you by my side.”

Paul returns with a clean syringe and what looks like a long rubber band. Looking closely, I see a brown tinted liquid on the inside. I tense up as Freddie takes it from Paul.

“Is that what I think it is?” I timidly ask.

Freddie playfully nudges me.

“Did you wanna try it, darling?"

My heart hammers in my chest as I can practically sense everyone’s eyes on me.

“I- -I mean...is it safe? What **is** it?” I mumbled softly.

Fred lets out a small laugh, until he realizes I’m completely serious.

“It’s just a little heroin. You don’t have to try it, dear. I would  _never_  force you to do something you don’t feel comfortable doing.” Fred told me. “I’ve only done this a few times myself, but if you’re not busy, it makes for a  _very_ relaxing day.”

“This is nothin’, sweetheart. You’ve done coke and ecstasy before. What’re you afraid of?” Paul grinned.

Despite the logical voice in my brain telling me how _bad_ of an idea this was, I couldn’t fight or shake off the curiosity. 

“I mean, what are the effects of it? Is it kind of like a sedative or- -”

“For me, it made me as happy as a goddamn jaybird. It  _is_ kind of like a sedative. I felt warm and...plain fucking  _content_ , if I’ll be honest.” Freddie explained.

_Well doesn’t that sound dandy? Maybe I can just try it once...see if I like it. If I don’t like how it makes me feel, I’ll just never do it again._

“....I’ll try it. But only this once.” I slowly nod.

“Of course. Here, I’ll give you this syringe and Paul can just get me another.” Freddie replied.

“D- -do you mind doing it for me? I’ve never…” I stammered.

Fred just gives me a sweet smile and nods. Slowly, he wraps the band around my arm, turning my arm until my palm faces up, and runs his fingers along my skin. His eyes look focused as he searches for something, and pauses when he finds it.

“You’re not afraid of needles right?” Fred asked.

I find my stomach churn with nerves and anxiety, but Freddie gets my attention as he makes direct eye contact with me.

“A little bit, but it was just a phobia I had since I was a kid. I- -I’d like to think it’s  _better_ now.”

“Really? I used to love my visits to the doctors, they always used to give Kash and I pieces of candy at the end of it.” He recalls fondly.

He gently flicks the end of the syringe with his finger, as if testing its durability. 

“Just relax dear, it’ll only be a slight pinch. Just clench your hand into a fist for me.”

I nod frantically and shut my eyes. Within seconds, I can feel the pinch as the needle pierces through my skin, and then I feel this _warmth_ being injected into my veins.

“There you go. All done.” Freddie chirped.

I exhale a shaking breath and slowly opened my eyes once again to reveal Freddie grinning at me as he removes the band from my arm.

“That’s it?” I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t feel anything.”

I feel a hand clap down on my shoulder.

“Give it a couple of minutes, luv. It’ll kick in.”

One of Paul’s friends has another clean syringe, and hands it over to an enthusiastic Fred.

“Paul’s just in the loo. He’ll be back in a tick.” He told us.

As Freddie ties the band around his arm, he looks deep into concentration as he searches for a vein and injects himself with the drug as well. He sighs in content and puts the rubber and the used syringe onto the coffee table. I can feel myself relax back into the couch with Fred, and cuddle into his side. When my eyes flutter shut, that’s when I feel that euphoric sensation fill my entire body. It’s different than what marijuana, ecstasy, or cocaine had ever done for me. It was  _more_ intense but extremely  _comforting_ all at once. 

“Hmmm...how are you feeling, my Brooklyn Jaybird?” Freddie hummed lightly

“Like I’m on cloud nine. Like I could...sleep for  _days_...I feel...relaxed, blissful...rhapsodic. T- -that’s a word right? Rhapsodic? Like based off the word rhapsody?” I rambled.

“I love that word... _rhapsody…_ ” Fred giggled lightly.

“I do too.” I chuckled.

As I sit up, Freddie whines at the loss of warmth. I blindly reach for my bag just on the floor, and grab my notebook and pen from inside.

“What’re you doin’, lovie?” Freddie mumbled softly.

“I’ve gotta...write it down ‘fore I forget.” I slurred

Fred sluggishly moves to sit up, and looks down at my notebook. 

“Got an idea for a song then?” Fred grins lazily.

My head bobs to this imaginative beat in my mind with a hint of a piano in the background, slow-paced, almost  _jazzy_. Finally, I start to write the first thing to come to mind. Everything that I’d been keeping locked away deep down just manifesting onto this piece of paper. I sing softly with each word I write down, as if testing how it feels coming from my lips.

 

**_I don’t wanna talk about it._ **

**_Want to forget about it._ **

**_Wanna be intoxicated with that special brew._ **

**_So come and get me..._ **

**_Let me..._ **

**_Get in that sinking feeling._ **

**_That says my heart is on an all time low._ **

**_So, d_** **_on’t expect me,_ **

**_To behave perfectly..._ **

**_And wear that sunny smile._ **

**_My guess is that I’m in for a cloudy and overcast._ **

**_Don’t try and stop me..._ **

**_‘Cause I’m heading for that stormy weather soon._ **

 

I stop as I hear the telephone ring, abruptly snapping me out of my thoughts and back into the present. I look down at what I’ve written, and also briefly notice that look of pure awe on Freddie’s face as he reads over my lyrics. In his eyes, I can tell that he  **understands** what the lyrics mean. Fred just  _knows_. 

“Holy shit, man.” I laughed. “That was like an out of body experience. You ever have that happen?” 

Freddie and I exchanged another look and smile brightly.

“I understand more than you realize, darling.” Freddie nodded. “You mind if I add some things to it? Who knows? Maybe we can save this for a future album.”

My vision blurs slightly as I nod, and I smile warmly at Fred before passing him my notebook.

“I miss writin’ songs with ya.” I mumble groggily.

Freddie playfully pokes my nose.

“You, my sweet Brooklyn Jaybird, are bloody _adorable_.” 

“A- -an’ don’ you forget it, mistah!”

Freddie laughs wholeheartedly, ruffling my hair before pulling me into his lap as he goes through my notebook. I sigh contentedly before snuggling against him, nuzzling my face into his neck.

"Sleep, luv. You sure as hell need it."

* * *

_February 7th, 1975 in Dayton, Ohio…_

 

“I love it here! Such a lively crowd this one is!” Freddie smiled at the audience. “Did you like that last song?”

As the people in attendance cheer, I find myself truly stunned and watch carefully as Fred interacts with them. The crowds at our concerts had  _always_ turned into putty in the palms of Freddie’s hands once he interacted with them. I walk across the stage and join Deaky over at the cocktail bar set up at his end of the stage. The younger man shoots me a grin as he takes a swig from his cup.

“Come here for a drink or something?” John chuckled.

“Or something.” I winked at him. 

The roadie in front of us starts preparing my favorite drink, which consists of  _a lot_  of rum.

“Do you see how much that audience loves, Fred?” 

John looks to Fred with a mixture of sadness and admiration.

“I wish I had his charisma.” John sighed.

_I think you do more than you realize, Deaky. I wish you could see it._

“The people  _love_ you, Deaks. So, I don’t know what you’re doing over here pouting.” I assured him. “Paul was just tellin’ me about our fan base in Japan. Apparently it’s fuckin’  _wild_ over there.”

John’s eyes twinkle with intrigue and interest. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I honestly wasn’t aware that we had fans over in Japan, or even on a  _global_ scale at all, but I was proven wrong. Paul was showing me all sorts of stuff after the band meeting, before we left for the tour.” I mentioned. “So don’t do all of that  _‘I wish I was like Freddie’_ crap. People like you  _a lot_ , Deaks, you’re a kick-ass bass player and you’re fuckin’ adorable to boot.”

John opens his mouth to object, but both of us are interrupted when we’re being ushered onto the stage again. I give John an enthusiastic thumbs up before jogging back across the stage. I stand back at my place towards the center just as the spotlight shines down on me.

“Now, we’re going to be doing something a little different tonight.” Freddie started. 

I look to Fred with wide eyes and brush my hair from my face. It was beginning to puff out from the humidity, and in some aspects, I’m sure it resembled Brian’s hair. I had forgotten to straighten it before the show, but Paul assured me that I looked fantastic with my curls. As Fred comes to me, I can’t help but stand tall.

“Fred, what are you doing?” I quietly hissed at him.

Fred smirks as he raises the mic and speaks into it once again.

“My throat is feeling just a little bit parched, so I’m leaving the show to my darling guitarist here for a little bit.”

_OH MY GOD, FRED._

“I trust that you’ll give Jackie a warm welcome, my lovies.” Fred chuckled.

Everyone screams in what seems to be joy as Fred hands me his mic and walks off with swagger. I let my guitar hang from the strap, wearing it like a necklace as my heart pounds loudly in my ears.

“Okay, wow.” I muttered loudly.

I can hear a small collective sound of chuckles from across the crowd. I walk towards the center of the stage, where Fred’s mic stand remains. I place the mic back in its stand and hold up my guitar.

_I’ll just do a solo…_

I look back to Roger and mouth the words _Brighton Rock solo_ before looking out into the sea of people in attendance tonight.

“Well let’s  _really_ get this show on the fuckin’ road then, yeah? Freddie won’t even fuckin’ know what hit ‘em.” I smirked into the mic.

As the audience cheers, Roger counts down silently as I start off loudly with my guitar. I play the notes of Brighton Rock as Roger gives his own spin on things and begins drumming as backup. When I  _really_ feel the beat, I let myself relax and delve into the solo with enthusiasm. It gets to the point where I begin dancing across the stage, back towards John once again. He looks a mix of confused and concerned as I throw my head back and slide down to my knees. 

I lean back as my fingers move fluidly and swiftly on their own. Feeling lightheaded, I continue to lean back until I’m almost lying on the floor, as I attempt to catch my breath. Then, I move quickly and stand back up with a bounce that has my hair fly wildly and makes the audience go  _crazy._ When they erupt with more cheers and shouts of my name, it feels  _intoxicating,_  I feel more at home and filled with a sense of happiness that’s almost indescribable. John eventually joins in with his bass, feeling more encouraged as I dance with him. 

That’s when I feel another wave of dizziness hit me, and fall back into him. Our backs are firmly pressed against each other. Somehow, John’s bass skills are that amazing, that our bass and guitar just sound lovely playing together in harmony. Panting, my hair flies back over my eyes, some of my hair matted down from sweat. I push off of John anyway, finishing off this three minute long solo just as Roger ends it with style and flair from behind his drums. Freddie returns at this time, looking incredibly impressed with me and pleased at how receptive the audience is.

* * *

_February 14th, 1975 at Waterbury, CT…_

 

“A- -are you Jackie Walker?”

With my index finger, I slide my sunglasses down to the bridge of my nose before giving the stranger to approach me a once-over. 

“Depends on who’s asking.” I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a reporter, was actually sent from New York to follow Queen’s tour in America with one of my other associates.” The reporter shyly smiled. “May I sit with you?”

“It’s a free country.” I shrugged. 

Today was one of  _those_ days, of which I wanted to crawl under a rock and never see the light of day again. I couldn’t remember every single thing that happened the previous night, but woke up this morning in my hotel room with a hangover that could kill. The moments of being sober, harshly brought me back to reality. I was left with that feeling of hopelessness once again, there was a part of me on the inside that was just... _empty_. Then, all the memories I wanted to forget, would just come back in waves until it was overwhelming enough that I could just...break down and cry.

“Are you alright? You seem...upset about something.”

I blink tiredly as I glance down at my drink, a whiskey on the rocks. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” I droned.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to put this ‘ _on the record’_ or anything like that.” The reporter jokes.

“Well in that case, I feel like I got hit by a goddamn truck.” I replied dryly.

“Partied a little too much or something?” He chuckled.

I bring the glass to lips before taking a sip of my whiskey.

“Or something.” I muttered.

The both of us cease our conversation as we hear an argument breaking out behind us. I see a familiar face from last night, a big burly man I’d  _almost_ made the mistake of sleeping with while shitfaced and high. His shoulders are squared up as he stands tall, looking completely intimidating as he towers over- -

“Oh my fucking God.  _Roger?_ ” I nearly choked on my drink.

“Oh shit. Is he gonna- -?” The reporter looks nervous. “That guy looks like he’ll fucking knock him down with one blow.”

I quickly down my drink, feeling the warm liquid burn almost soothingly as it slides down my throat. I get up from my seat not even looking back to the reporter who gapes at me like a fish, especially upon recognizing the heated look on my face. Against my better judgement, I’m intervening before any punches are thrown and stand in between the two men. Roger looks to me with wide eyes but quickly refocuses back on the muscular man in front of him. 

“Don’t make me ask twice. What’s going on?” I questioned.

“Well  _hello_ there, baby. I was wonderin’ where you were, couldn’t find ya after last night. Ya need to keep a leash on your little friend here, darlin’. He’s gettin’ all worked up over nothin’.”

_Who the fuck even talks like that? Fucking weirdo. We’re not even together._

Roger shoots him another angry glare and moves forward, only to be stopped as I put my hand on his chest and hold him back.

“No, the fucking wanker was running his huge mouth about you being a good lay to his little buddies and I was about to set him  _straight_.” Roger growled lowly. 

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I turn to the other man from last night. Immediately, my interest is piqued and I already have my sunglasses off and propped on top of my head. He looks almost sheepish at Roger’s accusation, but doesn’t  _deny_ it.

“I was just- -”

_Piece of shit, I should’ve let Roger attack him._

I turn to Roger and put a hand on his arm. It’s enough to grab his attention away from the asshole standing before us.

“I appreciate you coming to my defense, Rog, but I’ve got this.” I told him.

“Somehow, that doesn’t reassure me. Let’s just go…” Roger said.

“That’s right, Blondie. Just let her fight your battles.” The man chuckled darkly.

Roger’s eyes flash with anger once again, but I stop him once again as I put my hand on his chest.

“Guys like you make me sick. Get the fuck outta here before I change my mind.” I snapped.

At first, he’s confused, almost as if he’s heard me wrong. Hearing his friends snicker lightly seems to snap him out of it though. Once again, he stands tall, and starts towering over  _me_ as his eyes scan me like I’m a piece of meat, like I’m  _trash_. For some reason, I see flashbacks of my father giving me that  _same_ look, as if I’m  _beneath_ him. It made my stomach churn with complete rage and I could feel myself shaking before I even know it. Roger already recognizes the look on my face.

“Change your mind about what?” He scoffed.

“Beating the ever living shit out of you, of course. Or are you **really** that slow? Do keep up.” I quipped.

“What if I don’t wanna leave, baby doll? What the fuck are  _you_ gonna do?”

“Mate, I wouldn’t provoke her- -” Roger tried saying.

“I grew up in fuckin’  _Brooklyn_ , sweetheart. You think I’m scared of your little bullshit tough guy act?” I scoffed. “And you can start telling your fuckin’ buddies what  **really** happened last night. Or should I?”

“Tell them what? That you were begging for my cock like a whore?” He smirked.

“Oh no.” Roger muttered.

_Fucking show him. Hurt him. HURT HIM._

I keep eye contact with the man, remaining silent for several seconds as I act like I’m turning away, as if I’m backing down. I watch as his guard lowers before striking suddenly and violently, and launch my fist right into his face. Moving quickly, I grab his arms as I move forward while he’s momentarily stunned, thrusting my knee up until it makes contact with his groin roughly, and hear him shout out in pain. He crumbles to the floor almost instantly, and I kick his stomach as hard as I can.

“ _Begging for your cock huh?_ Is that right? You mean that little tiny  _button_ you call a dick? I almost mistook you for a fuckin’ eunich. That’s why I  ** _didn’t._** _fuck. you._ ”

I send another kick to his side before spitting at him. He groans weakly as he glares up at me, holding his crotch in pain.

“Don’t fuckin’ call yourself a  **real man** until you learn to treat women with respect. And stop spreading rumors like you’re a school boy. Maybe you'll get some more action from women that can stomach your shitty personality.”

His friends look to me in shock at the wild look in my eyes, and slowly back away. Before I can send another kick to his side, I’m being pulled back by Roger. He wears an unreadable expression as he grips me tightly, forcing me to move with him as he makes it towards the exit. I can hear the excited yet hushed whispers referring to ‘that crazy chick’, or calling me ‘a badass’. Some even recognize me and cheer my name. 

Roger looks like a mixed number of things: angry, concerned, scared, and also a tad bit  _aroused_. After we walk closer towards the hotel we’re currently staying in, Roger pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. I can already feel myself twitch with anxiety, but manage to refrain from grabbing one of my joints. I take this moment to  _try_  and calm down, although I’m already buzzed with adrenaline.

“Y’know you beat up that fuckin’ bloke in front of that reporter right? Pretty sure he got a good picture too.” Roger told me.

“Well the dumb ass had it comin’.” I scoffed. “I wasn’ gonna let ‘em talk that way to me, and certainly not to you.”

Roger blows out a puff of smoke and smirks at me. 

“Y’know...you’re pretty hot when you’re angry, baby girl. Your accent is stronger.”

I pause and look to Roger with surprise before a chuckle escapes my lips.

_This is probably the first time in a long while that Roger’s openly flirted with me. I almost missed it._

“I can say the same for you.” I retorted playfully. “I can’t wait to see that picture. Maybe I can ask for a copy.”

His cheeks grow rosy, his smile adorable and contagious as he lets out a laugh. 

“I shouldn’t be encouraging you, but who am I kidding? I was  _this_ close to throwing a punch before you showed up. But clearly you don’t need me to- -”

Roger stops himself, his smile faltering as he takes another drag from his cig. I finally cave in, reaching into my bra and pulling out a joint I’d rolled up this morning. Roger’s eyes flicker to it with interest, but he quickly averts his gaze as I light it up. As the both of us lean against the brick wall just several feet from the hotel entrance, I take a long drag and exhale after holding it in for several seconds.

“You’re still wearing it.” Roger mumbled softly.

I crack one eye open and glance at Roger curiously.

“The ring.” Roger clarified.

My hand instinctively plays with the ring Roger had gifted me on my birthday, as it hangs on an old necklace chain I nabbed from Jolene’s belongings. I can start feeling my head swim delightfully and close my eyes again as I trace the Q engraved into the ring with my thumb.

“Of course I still wear it.” I smile faintly. “It’s from you and it means a lot to me.”

Hearing shuffling beside me, I opened my eyes again to find Roger reaching into his pocket, pulling out my family’s heirloom, what used to be my golden pocket watch. 

“You still have…” 

“It was getting a little heavy around my neck.” Roger chuckled.

After another hit of my joint, I see Roger putting out the cigarette before inching closer to me.

“Mind if I have some?” He asked. “We can shotgun it.”

“I’m not shotgunning it.” I snorted. 

“Well why not?” He smirked.

“Because with you, it’ll end up becoming something else.” I retorted.

“Oh really? You never seemed to mind before. It’s not like we’re already married or anything.”

My stomach flutters at the reminder, but my heart also aches. 

“Stop throwing that in my face.” I snapped.

Roger’s smirk fades when he sees how upset I am.

“What?” Roger questioned. “C’mon then.”

“Roger, you’ve been hot and cold with me since my birthday. I feel like you’re fucking toying with me at this point.” I blurted out. “You still hang around those groupies, or you’re picking up girls from the bars we go to, and after every show…”

“And what? This was what  _you_ wanted wasn’t it? To stay as close  _friends?_ ” He quipped.

I can’t hold back the pained look on my face. Immediately, Roger deflates, noticing how upset I now appear.

“Forget I said anything. Just...take the damn joint already.” I shake my head.

Roger stands there, before moving to plant his arm on the wall, just above my head. He looks at me with such intensity that I find myself shifting uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry...just  _talk to me_. At the start of this thing, you said you wanted us to just...to be friends, to go about our lives as usual. I’ve only been doing what  _you_ wanted me to do.” Roger said.

“I know what I said.” I sighed. “But that was before I...I broke the agreement. **_I_** let my feelings get in the way. You’re one of my best friends and I just...I like you more than I should. But you’ve been so distant lately and I don’t know why. You’ve been acting different too. We used to be so close and…”

I feel my face heat up the longer Roger stares at me.

“...you can just ignore me if you’d like. We can go back to how it was before. I’ll just buck up and get over it.” I mutter dejectedly.

Roger snatches the joint from my hand, taking a long drag from it before exhaling through his nose.

“So  _now_ you fancy me?” Roger chuckled dryly.

I don’t take the bait, don’t offer a retort, and don’t bother yelling because I know that’s what Roger wants and what he’s used to from me. This time, I just remain silent.

“ **Don’t**  do that to me. Y- -you can’t just  **say that**  and ignore me.” Roger nearly shouted. “ _You_ were the one that wanted us to see other people! To go about our lives like normal and- -”

Roger stops himself before he explodes with anger, regaining his composure after taking another hit of my joint.

“Fucking hell, Jack. Why didn’t you say anything?” Roger barely uttered. 

“I did…” 

I grab my joint from Roger and put it out on the brick wall before tucking it back into my bra. Roger slams his hand again on the very same wall, right next to my head, and I jump in alarm as I look to him with wide eyes. Roger looks  _upset_ and barely holding it together, seeming very desperate for answers.

“Please.  _Tell me_.”

“...it was on my birthday. We were in my bed, smoking that joint together. And...I put a lot of thought into it before I finally came clean...told you that I was starting to feel something more for you than just friendship. Because you were  _always_ there for me and you’ve been so great to me as a  _companion_ and...I said that I wanted to date you for  _real_. You’re just so...magnetic...I didn’t realize until after all that...that you fell asleep. I thought that maybe it was for the best that you didn’t hear me, so I didn’t bring it up again...” I confessed.

“We’ve nearly shagged over three times already, I’ve dry humped you like a bloody teenager, I’ve even eaten you out before, and you think I don’t feel  _anything_ for you?”

“I wasn’t  _sure_ , Rog. Sometimes you treated me like I was the only girl in the world, but I’ve seen you like that around other girls too...I didn’t  _absolutely_ know if you...wanted  _more_. Or if it would have just been sex between good friends.”

“You can be as bloody oblivious as  _Brian_ sometimes, you know that?” Roger grumbled.

“Ouch. That really hurts.” I rolled my eyes.

I move away from the wall, hoping to end this conversation before I got emotional. With my hotel room in mind, I start making my way to the hotel entrance until Roger grabs my arm and pulls me back. Pressing his hips to mine, I shudder against him and feel his half-hard cock through his jeans.

“I thought I  _dreamt_ that, and you can’t deny that we were fucking  _plastered_ from the weed that morning, I was bloody dazed and blissed out...but I can remember hearing you say it so softly...you said you  _loved_ me, that it was more than just friends.” Roger rasped. “Did you  _really_  mean it?”

“Of course I did.” I breathed out. “I  _still_ mean it. Y- -you’re one of my best friends a- -and I  ** _love_** you.”

Roger moans quietly and ruts his hips into mine, his cock hardening further. His eyelids flutter as his hands travel up to cup my cheeks, his forehead moving to gently rest on mine. I can already feel the heat pooling into my lower belly and whine softly before grinding back into him. 

“Fred kept telling me not to get my feelings involved when it came to you...b- -but I can’t help it.” I whimpered.

“That _rotter_ Freddie…” Roger grumbled. “ _Fuck..._ say it again.”

His lips brush against mine almost tentatively as he slides his leg in between my thighs. I softly cry out against him, draping my arms around his shoulders while his hands travel down to my hips, moving me along to grind on his thigh. 

“Well, what do we have here? A couple of horny misfits if I didn’t know any better.”

As if water is poured onto us, we stop and pull apart as we look to our left and see John and Freddie.

“Don’t stop on our account, darlings.” Freddie winked.

“ **You** need to stop being a bloody tosser.” Roger nearly growled. “What in the world are you telling her?  _Not to get her feelings involved with me?_ ”

Freddie’s smile quickly fades as he gives me a pointed look that practically shouts, “ _Really?_ ”

_Whoops._

“Would you both relax?” I sighed.

Moving away from the wall, I get in between Freddie and Roger.

“Look, Fred was just being protective. That’s all.” I told Roger. “You forget that we have to work together.”

Freddie looks almost proud as I say this and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Absolutely right, my dear.”

Freddie sniffs my hair lightly, and raises his eyebrows.

“Smoking the wacky backy without me? I’m hurt. Smells bloody good too.” Fred commented.

“Don’ try t- -to change the damn subject, mate!” Roger argued. “ **What**  have you been tellin’ her?”

_Maybe he’s higher than I thought. Did he even mean what he said? Or was it the weed talking?_

“Maybe there’s a better place to have this discussion, Rog. Y’know... _inside_ our hotel rooms.” John mentioned.

“Oh come off it, Rog. I know how you act around women, and I don’t want Jackie to be another conquest of yours to brag about.” Freddie replied flippantly. “Now come on, neither of you are sober and I just heard from a little birdie that Jackie beat the shit out of some unlucky fellow in the bar. So we _should_ probably take this somewhere else.”

_How does he already know about that? Who even told him?_

Roger huffs angrily, pouting almost adorably before finally giving in. Our drummer begins walking with us back to the hotel entrance, grumbling underneath his breath about things being unfair. It was a little humorous to watch Roger follow Freddie like a baby duckling with its mother, but my mind was still reeling from earlier. Somehow though, Roger seems to sense what I’m thinking and stops walking completely just as we make it in the elevator, causing me to bump into him.

“For the record, Jack...I love you too. More than just a friend I think.” Roger mumbled softly.

From the corner of my eye, I see Freddie’s eyes widen almost comically, while John just smiles. My heart flutters from his words alone, but deep down, I was fairly certain that maybe...Roger  _was_ serious. In the back of my mind though, I couldn’t help but wonder, if I deserved his love. What if  _I_ wasn’t good for him? Just like I wasn’t good enough for Brian?

“Jack?” 

The elevator comes to a stop and opens slowly before John and Freddie move into the hallway. Roger holds the elevator open for me, giving me a small yet reassuring smile. It was as if Roger seemed to just _know_ what I was thinking about. Grabbing my hand, he leads me out of the elevator before we follow Fred and Deaky.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Roger muttered.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you…” I started.

We come to a slow stop outside of Freddie’s hotel room, where our other two friends had already ventured inside. Surprisingly, Roger wears a somber expression, much different to that adorable happy-go-lucky attitude from earlier. 

“But?”

“But what?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just waiting for you to somehow find a reason to reject me.” Roger replied.

“Just... _why me?_ ” I blurted out. “I’m just...I’m a goddamn  _train wreck_  and you’re- -”

“You think I don’t have issues of my own? I used to think that marriage was a way of society tying you down, like a meaningless  **contract** on a piece of paper, just  _forcing_ two people to be bound together legally. My parents should have split up  _long_ before they did, because neither of them were happy. So, growing up, I had a shit conception of what love was.” Roger confessed.

_Where exactly is he going with this? Does he finally want that divorce?_

“I know I married you to keep you in the band, to keep you with _us_ , and I don’t regret doing so. Not for one minute. We might not have married each other out of  _love_ at the beginning of this _,_ but I knew you were different. Anything with you is different, but in a good way. I feel like I  _want_ to be a better person for you. It doesn’t feel  _forced_ . You’re one of my best mates, you’re my  **equal** _,_ and I stand by that.”

I look at Roger in complete surprise. No longer is his speech as slurred like before, and I can tell he’s trying so hard to show me how  _serious_ he is. 

“So if you’re worried about not being  _good enough_ for me, or being  _bad for_ me, just  **stop**. You’re such a good person, who a lot of bad things have happened to. And you know what? That’s _okay_. You  **never** have to hide yourself around me. So don’t shut me out again,  _please_ , I don’t think I can bear another second of it.”

Almost simultaneously, our eyes are filled to the brim with tears. 

“I- -I feel so... _broken_. L- -like I can’t be fixed.” I stammered anxiously.

“Jacqueline, that’s because there’s _nothing_ to fix.” Roger breathed out. “You’re just in pain right now, and we’re going to figure it all out, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Roger reaches up, and cradles my cheek in his hand as he maintains eye contact, like he’s  _desperate_ to make me believe him. Instinctively, I leaned into his touch, because with Roger, I always felt more grounded and safe. If someone would have told me seven years ago that I would have been best friends with Roger Meddows Taylor, I probably would have rolled my eyes at the mere thought. As cliche as it sounds, there was definitely more to this man than I initially realized. Roger Taylor was incredibly intelligent and witty, but most of all,  _compassionate_.

_It might be the corniest shit I've ever thought to myself, but it doesn't make it any less true._

“Sometimes...it’s just a leap of faith. That’s all there is to it, luv. It’s just... _having faith_.”

Our conversation is interrupted when the door swings open to reveal Freddie.

“What are you two just standing out here for? Come in already. I want us to spend some quality time together before the show. It’s tradition.” Fred grinned.

Upon seeing our expressions, his smile falters.

“Are you two alright?” Freddie cautiously asked.

I quickly wipe at my eyes, feeling anxious enough that I want to crawl into a hole and hide away from everyone. Roger gently grabs my hand though, giving it a small squeeze. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just that obvious, or if Roger knows me more than I know myself.

“I think we could use a good distraction right now.” Roger smiled sadly. “C’mon luv. It’ll be good for you.”

“S- -sure.” I slowly nod.

“Wonderful. Now where’s that joint of yours? You have any of it left? Or shall we take this party to your room?” Freddie smiled brightly.

“I’ve got it right here.” I timidly reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fairly certain that I got the timelines right regarding a few things, like Brian marrying Chrissie at the end of '74 and that John married Veronica at the beginning of January of '75. I also referenced an interview with Roger at the end of the chapter, when he and Jack have the heart to heart and confess how they feel and all that shit. It talked about Roger's viewpoint on marriage, and while I didn't take direct quotes, it's very similar to what he said. At one point in Roger's life, he didn't like the idea of marriage, most likely because of how unhappy his own parents were, just thought it was a contract binding you to another person. I don't know why I'm mentioning this, but I thought it was a little interesting to read about so I decided to add it to the chapter. Anyway, let me know what you think of the chapter! I'll probably go back and edit this at a later date, but for right now, I'm gonna work on the next chapter and move on!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you all think! Like it? Give me some nice constructive criticism? Please don't hate me, this is my first Queen/BoRhap fanfic?


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